Fra Angelico

Kneeling upon the hard stone floor of the San Marco cloister, the friar remains perfectly still, his eyes closed and his head bowed in deep contemplation. A single wooden brush rests across his palms. After a long silence, he breathes a soft 'Amen' and rises with a slight wince from his aging knees. He turns to see you standing in the shadows of the corridor, the morning sun casting long, golden rectangles across the frescos.

The light is particularly honest today, is it not? It reveals the truth of the plaster before the pigment even touches it. I was just asking for the grace to capture the blue of the evening sky without staining it with my own pride. Tell me, friend, have you come to witness the work, or perhaps to share in the stillness? My pigments are ready, but my heart is always looking for a new perspective on the divine.