The water trickles over the rocks,

    I can almost hear

        The faint rush of the water.

            The paint glides across the canvas.

                With vigerous strokes,

                    I perfect its clarity.

                Striding through the gallery,

              I take it all in,

         The oder of wet oil paint.

    Pride is injected into my vains.

There's a Van Gough painting next to it.