Things to keep in mind:
The secret of seeing it all so clearly in your head.
Barganax smiled: shook his head. “Your artist creates not. Say I paint your grace a picture: make you a poem: that is not create. I but find, choose, set in order.”
“Yet we say God created the world? Is that wrong then?” She looked from father to son. “How came the world, then?”
There fell a silence: in the midst of it, the Vicar with his teeth cracking of a lobster’s claw. Amalie looked on the King, within hand’s-reach upon her left. She said, as resolving her own question: “I suppose it lay in glory in His mind.”
Barganax seemed to pause upon his mother”s words. “And yet, so lying,” he said, “is not a world yet. To be that, it must lie outside. Nor it cannot, surely, lie whole in his mind afore it be first laid also outside. So here’s need to create, afore e’er you think of a world.” He paused: looked at Fiorinda. “And even a God,” he said, “cannot create beauty: can but discover.”
—posted 340 days ago
