To my delight, I discovered a photo of what was once my favorite painting in the entire world...
When I first started attending a church, I idolized my youth pastor, Ryan. He was the coolest person in the entire world. Without a doubt.
And he had the coolest office in the world, as well. It was a loft, up in the far corner of the church... far away from the hustle and bustle. I used to love sitting up there in an old beat-up rocker, chatting with him and throwing darts. It's where he kept his cool computer, his cool guitar, his cool library, and, at times, his cool girlfriend.
He had the above painting hanging in that office, and I always loved it. You can't tell from the awful, slightly-fuzzy photo I took, but it really was quite lovely... bold shades of blue and black, the paint shoveled on so thick that it stood out from the canvas, bumpy, alive.
Several years after my youth pastor left to pursue a career in carpentry, I was hired as an intern to work with the youth at the same church. I was given the option of what office I wanted, and I knew instantly that I wanted to excavate Ryan's old office from under the 2 years of cumulated church junk, rubble, and un-wanteds. It took me almost a week... but I was so pleased with the finished product.
There was only one thing missing: a painting. This church happened to have a large number of artists in attendance, and many of them stored their artwork in the building. I was handed the keys to several walk-in closets full of paintings to choose one for my work space.
I spent an entire glorious afternoon sitting cross-legged in closets and sorting through beautiful things.
And then I found it. That same old painting I had always adored. I happily carted it up and off to my little room, where it remained until the end of my internship.
So there you go, that's the story. And there's the painting.
