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Two friends were sitting having tea together, and looking up at the wondrous snow capped peak of Mount Fuji. It just so happened that they had been talking about the Zen artists of Japan, and the magnificant prints, many of them depicting the most famous mountain in the land.
The friend had been looking at some of the works of art hanging on the walls of his young friends home. He wanted to know where he had bought such fine prints, and of the artists. He was astounded to hear that he was, indeed, sitting having tea with the living artist, and he exclaimed:
"You surely must be one of the greatest artists of our time!"
Because the prints were magnificent.
The other friend laughed and shook his head. No, he was not the greatest artist! Then he went strangely silent and looked into an intense space. He patiently explained to his friend that his skill was to listen, and the finer he tuned his listening the clearer his vision.
It was his skill, to listen so carefully, that he was able to see, hear and understand the infinite design. When he was able to hear the resonance of that mysterious frequency, he was able to mirror it into a form that he could share with this world.
He considered the greatest artist reveals itself in the form of the mountains and the trees, in the windswept skies, in the pine needles and the ocean waves. The two friends were silent. In the distance an eagle called from the mountain high. Clouds drifted. Two women stopped to pick up a cherry blossom from the path. The songs of whales are heard crying in the mountain pines.
