~In the Depths of my Heart lies Eloquent Beauty~
Heyo!~ Well, here’s my entry to Simplebeast321’s challenge. I hope you’ll like it! It talks about the value as well as the art of words, which I appreciate greatly. I am also and artist, so my ideas/beliefs are appreciative of both forms of art. ^_^ Oh, and I think the song “Unwritten” by Natasha Bedingfield, was very inspirational while writing the last paragraph of this story. ^_~ Check it out if you wish~.
The black paint on the calligraphy brush dances over and over on the blank piece of paper, leaving a fresh trail for others to follow. Gracefully and effortlessly it moves, not looking back at the beauty, which it has inscribed. Not until it is done does the brush glance carelessly over its work. It does nothing as the marvel to which it writes will inspire others to follow. Neither does it comment on the fact that it has brought new meaning to the once plain piece of paper. It looks onto the horizon, past the clouds of doubt and over the radiant sky full of words, full of meaning. It nods in agreement that it needs to continue, and so, without further ado, it heads onward, to more lands of blankness, so that its words may be known throughout the entire world.
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This is the art of writing: the essence of meaning with the beauty of words. It is strange how these simple characters, when combined can make people change their ideas, perspectives, beliefs and actions. These characters can bring upon tears of human solitude, the pure quintessence of the natural beauty all around the earth, the fragility of others, and, of course the power of words. Transcribed for the end of time, the art of writing, of literature, cannot be destroyed by ruthless, arrogant beings, nor of Mother natures’ hellish fires for there will always be a certain someone, with a passion burning inside them to write. The human itch for the pen is perhaps the worlds’ greatest gift, while still being a deadly sin. Literature captivates the heart by so many emotions—love, hate, peace and war. All of these factors can collectively coincide with each other. And thus, this is the gift of writing; perhaps the worlds more purest form of art.
It has been debatable whether of not writing is a true form of art. Very often, the quote “a picture is worth a thousand words”, while literature is left out, regarded as worthless compared to the compelling creations of artists. This perhaps may be true. One must ask themselves, why is visual arts looked upon so highly compared to the art of writing. Then again, someone might compare the fact why is dancing on the television viewed more than singing. The answer to both of these questions is simple. Visual art and dancing is subjective—there is not right or wrong of doing either. It is firmly what one believes, it is perhaps more free. However, with the art of writing and singing, it is easily criticized as the power of words can strongly affect the ideas of many, which can lead to rebellion and change. Many places in the world refrain the freedom of speech, as a fear that insurgence will likely follow. Throughout history, pages of blood have been shed due to writing ones ideas and beliefs. Therefore, while a picture is worth a thousand words, a thousand words can change the whole world.
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The calligraphy brush stops finally after its long journey of spreading the value of words throughout the land. Many times those who did not value words, and regarded them as useless space pursued the brush. Nonetheless, the calligraphy brush continued on, filling out more and more blank pieces of paper, and giving them value, emotion, and meaning. More and more, people began to pick up their own utensils, to create their own gift of words. The brush, now bare from the black ink, rests quietly on the side of the ink cartridge. It had done its’ job. Proudly, it looks past the horizon to see many enjoying the meaning of words, and the art of writing. Perhaps this could lead on to a new future. One where there will finally be peace, love and hope, and where hate, violence and evil will only be something from a fairytale. Very stilly it lies beside its last marvelous work. It finally closes its eyes, as its glance on the final words it had inscribed; Imagination is anything that the mind creates; the power of words and the beauty of art.
The end. 
