15. The Painter’s Cigarette
THERE is a certain something in a cigarette that gives character to the painter’s conversation. The cigarette itself plays an important part in timing the frequent pauses to suit the wit of genius. The curls of smoke punctuate a series of brilliant aphorisms which otherwise would be impossible. The painter has the gift of making parables. The fact is he talks from feeling rather than reason. He never makes a speech: he tells you something. But is he not charming withal?
He has no self-restraint. The cold, placid surface, the cultivated evenness that is counted a valuable asset in the man of business, in the politician and the millionaire, is not his, thank God!
In his heart he is a child. He will talk about himself and his own work so frankly that you will always be interested if not wholly charmed. Unselfish in every vein, his grievance is never a personal one; it has no bearings save for his art. From this point the matter is soon beaten flat under his hammer of words. If he had not the courage to say all he felt he would be no painter! But do not be deceived: his fearless tongue has a fine counterpart deep in his heart. As a man in the right capable of strong denunciation, he is the man you may safely approach and trust!