An Artist talking to himself

Water color

The Artist
An Artist was having a conversation with himself, a soliloquy, having not been commissioned,and decided to invite a few friends to listen in. Although singular, sometimes the conversation would get heated over principals or standards and his friends would get a laugh.
Then there were those moments of contention when the expectations his friends would bring would clash with his turn of thought. He didn’t want to argue since they were nice enough to stop by and listen but he often wondered why some would feel the need to judge.
The conversation was always between his tolerant pleasure-seeking ideal and his hard-edge ego. The Ego felt threatened and infringed upon and for that matter was clinging to his manufactured and contrived life.”Things must be done RIGHT!” The ideal just flitted about on butterfly wings while listening but had nothing to say. The ego raved about the past and wanted a better future then lectured on what was good and bad. The ideal ate a few grapes and gave him space.
The Ego loved to bring up emotionally charged subjects like morality or inevitable disasters – things that must be acted on. The Ego would obfuscate the truth with unsubstantiated ‘facts ‘ drawn from common sense and hearsay and would stand tall with any conspiracy. The ideal sat quietly and waited while the ego disappeared like a dream on waking.
The artist friends all cheered and went home.