Oceans for Emotions: Art of Fishing

April 29, 2011 at midnight
Updated April 28, 2011 at 11:29 p.m.

By Elaine Wheat

"For I have created him for my glory. I have formed him, yea, I have made him."

- Isaiah 43:7

Today, I went to the coast and committed murder. Webster's defines murder as "To kill brutally or inhumanly. To destroy or put to an end." That is exactly what I committed, I premeditatedly plunged my weapon, the barbed fish hook, through the black, bubbly brain of a terminally alive shrimp.

Even though I know about the survival of the fittest and the balance of nature, it still hurts me to stand there with a shrimp's life hanging tentatively in my hand with his black beady, pleading eyes staring at me looking for just one merciful fisherman. It hurts me, but not as badly as it hurts the shrimp, as I thread my treble hook right through those eyes. The only way I can justify murdering the shrimp and burying it at sea is to believe the philosopher who said, in order to create, one must first destroy.

An artist must take a perfectly, empty, pure place and destroy its purity with paint. Only if what he creates is an improvement over what he destroys does it become art. The same is true when music destroys, or words destroy an empty page, or music improves on silence (And that is why I do not sing).

Today, I destroyed a shrimp in order to create a lovely dinner for my family. If I had taken this fragile life for any lesser reason than creating a fuller life, my actions could not be justified.

I guess that is why they call it, "The Art of Fishing."

Dear Lord: "Help me to be willing to destroy the bad parts of myself so that I can create in me, and from me, more perfect parts. May my life be your art form, so that I may better reflect the works of the Master."



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