Tuesday, June 2, 2009

How Many Calories Do Beef Tips Have

The elegance of the monkey


and Taoism Zen
By Yeiazel
The Painter and the Emperor
A Son of Heaven, whose history has not remembered the name, had come in his palace the most famous painter of his empire. It was an ageless man who lived in a hermitage perched on the flanks of a mountain fierce. The emperor ordered a mural for their new apartments. What he wanted to be represented two dragons, one blue and one yellow, symbol of the two primordial energies whose union leads to the celestial harmony.
The artist promised to make his masterpiece, to put the essence of his art, but put his conditions: time, food and supplies limitless. Then the artist went back to his hermitage.
The months passed, during which the caravans carting to the refuge of the painter supplies, torches, brushes, powders and gold colors. A year had passed and the artist still had not left his retirement. The Emperor was furious every time he passed the wall desperately empty. He sent a message to the painter, requiring him to come as soon complete its work. But the artist sent him a letter in which he requested, with all forms of courtesies, time, and additional supplies. He still needs a little time because he was approaching the end, it was about to push the boundaries of his art. Intrigued, the emperor agreed.
Six more months passed and, unable to bear the white wall that seemed to taunt him, the Son of Heaven made the cover of a huge tapestry. Three years had passed when the painter, that the emperor had almost begun to forget, reappeared at court. The curtain was removed and the artist painted the mural. When she was finished, the emperor came to contemplate this long awaited masterpiece. He discovered two species of amazement zigzags roughly sketched, one blue and one yellow. It vaguely resembled two calligraphy! And it was not even the ideograms of the dragon! The face imperial alternately donned the mask of amazement, the grimace of indignation to explode into a grimace of anger. And Her Majesty, furious, threw him in jail, the painter who had so much fun of her and who had very long service ended up costing.
The emperor had set up his bed in front of the mural because he wanted to contemplate the masterpiece fell asleep. Rather, it was missed but, exhausted by so many emotions he had not the courage to move his bed and lay down, turning decisively away from the odious scrawl!
Deep in the night, awakened by the roar master of China. It turned to the mural and the room ablaze by moonlight, he thought he saw two flashes, like dragons, one blue and one yellow. They faced each other, entwined, repel, exchanged their places in an infinite dance.
The next day at dawn, the Emperor ordered the painter out of his cell he said to his night vision. The old artist smiled and said that the answer was in his hermitage.
After he had ridden up the mountain fierce, and then climbed a path that wound along a steep precipice, the painter did enter the emperor in his hut built against the rock wall. At the bottom of the hut opened the gaping mouth of a cave that penetrated into the bowels of the mountain. The painter lit a torch and guided the Son of Heaven in the dark. On the walls, near the entrance were painted blue and yellow dragons as the emperor had so hoped for, with all the information the most realistic, shiny scales, claws, sharp nostrils steaming ... But as the torch plunged into the depths, she woke images increasingly refined to lead to simple lines of force. It only remained to the end that the essence of vibrant dragons, figured by the primordial energies of the same features as those colors drawn on the mural.
Then the emperor took the warm hands of the old painter and smiled, amazed to have any market turn in the footsteps of the artist, the heart of the savage mountain.

- broadcast for the first time on the site "
The cozy little world of HC
" May 25, 2009

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