handled penknives; indicating that he would be able to pay handsomely。
“Now then; draw Death for me;” the old man said。
“I cannot draw a picture of Death without ever; not once in my entire life;
having seen a picture of Death;” said the miraculously sure…handed
miniaturist; who would shortly; in fact; end up doing the drawing。
“You do not always need to have seen an illustration of something in order
to depict that thing;” objected the refined and enthusiastic old man。
“Yes; perhaps not;” said the master illustrator。 “Yet; if the picture is to be
perfect; the way the masters of old would’ve made it; it ought to be drawn at
least a thousand times before I attempt it。 No matter how masterful a
miniaturist might be; when he paints an object for the first time; he’ll render
it as an apprentice would; and I could never do that。 I cannot put my mastery
aside while illustrating Death; this yself。”
“Such a death might put you in touch with the subject matter;” quipped
the old man。
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“It’s not experience of subject matter that makes us masters; it’s never
having experienced it that makes us masters。”
“Such mastery ought to be acquainted with Death then。”
In this manner; they entered into an elevated conversation with double
entendre; allusions; puns; obscure references and innuendos; as befit
miniaturists who respected both the old masters as well as their own talent。
Since it was my existence that was being discussed; I listened intently to the
conversation; the entirety of which; I know; would bore the distinguished
miniaturists among us in this good coffeehouse。 Let me just say that there
came a point when the discussion touched upon the following:
“Is the measure of a miniaturist’s talent the ability to depict everything
with the same perfection as the great masters or the ability to introduce into
the picture subject matter which no one else can see?” said the sure…handed;
stunning…eyed; brilliant illustrator; and although he himself knew the answer
to this question; he remained quite reserved。
“The Veians measure a miniaturist’s prowess by his ability to discover
novel subject matter and techniques that have never before been used;”
insisted the old man arrogantly。
“Veians die like Veians;” said the illustrator who would soon draw
me。
“All our deaths resemble one another;” said the old man。
“Legends and paintings recount how men are distinct from one another;
not how everybody resembles one another;” said the wise illustrator。 “The
master miniaturist earns his mastery by depicting unique legends as if we