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Paradise

There is a veil, the thickness of which varies depending upon the nature of the soul on which it falls. A masterpiece moves from independent colours seemingly haphazard on a canvas to a glorious expression of the Artist’s being. Stumbling into the musty workshop, witnessing unwashed brushes and the sharpness of terpse stinging the nostrils, the ignorant would be forgiven for seeing nothing but a chaotic confusion of shades adorning the easel. Yet hindsight teaches that the workshop suffers not from disorder, but rather the senses that experience are not in tune with the Creative Power that soothes, should one only tune in.

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