Every artistic media Chelsa touched, became a masterwork. Her gallery shows always sold out. People, to impress, would say they had a Chelsa piece.
Chelsa had a secret, a rather big secret. Her real home was elsewhere. All it took was a wave of her hand, and whatever she had dreamed became a work of art.
She lived as reclusively as possible. To protect the secret of how she made art.
She would release new works at a slow pace. Take commissions. Donate art to charities to be auctioned off.
To Chelsa’s horror, a major museum put on a special exhibition of work from her many medias.
Owners of Chelsa’s work loaned their pieces. The curator hoped that Chelsa would create new art in new mediums for the exhibition. A camera crew would f0ll0w her artistic process from conception to conclusion.
Chelsa needed advice from her counselors – the 3 “rocks” in her garden. She carefully opened their zippers. They so reminded her of home.
The 3 rocks thought together, rolled in an agreement direction. Middle “rock” spoke for all three:
“Time to morph. We now know about lings and art. Next, lesson should be destruction, should be war.”