Skeptics vs. Cynics (a rather harsh comparison, returning to more kindness at the end)

The Painter's Triumph
by William Sidney Mount
(1838)

The skeptic is a necessary member of society,
an artist who experiments with methods,
colors, media to stretch the edges of our
thoughts, asking questions and demanding that
we know the reasons backing up opinions.
The brush he holds (or she) is delicate, just
one hair wide at times, to focus on the pupil of
an eye, or even just the point of light reflected
on the pupil of an eye within a massive painting
of the world. We need the skeptic more than
we may fully realize, do well to welcome him
(or her) into our conversations.

The cynic, on the other hand, sits at his paint-by-number
canvas board, frustrated that his clumsy hands
keep getting colors there across the lines and rendering
the overall effect so messy that all artistry is lost.
The brush is wide, impossible to deftly handle all
the nuances and details of the outline of a masterpiece,
and so he (or perhaps, a she) begins to smear the colors
all together, muddy swirl in which the reds cannot be
seen apart from blues, the yellows lost completely.
We're asked, demanded even, to accept the painting
as a work of art because he signs it with a flare.

There is still hope, of course. The cynic can take lessons,
face the challenge of a blank page without anyone's
design already there, may find a way to
throw off all those rigid preconceptions, open up
his mind (or hers) to creativity, find joy again. For
that is what is lacking most with cynics, I observe:
a simple joy at life, an eye for color and design that
only comes when there is color and design within.



(c) Ellen Gillette, 2014