Behind the Clouds….

Behind the clouds, in an endless sky, the Master Artist is at work in his studio….

The Master fills his canvases with formation after formation, giving the cumulo a little nimbus, whenever the mood should strike.

Transforming fluffy white clouds into puppies and dragons, is what the Master does best. He knows his craft and takes pleasure in the end result, never deviating from the style he knows so well.


Behind every Master Artist, is an Apprentice. They keep the brushes clean and the clouds moving. The studio – their home away from home.

The young Apprentice loves her job, but dreams of grander things. She yearns to paint the clouds herself and practices long after the Master has called it a day.

Tradition has always determined the cloud’s style, but this young angel has ideas of her own. Colours and twirly tendrils. The sky, so full of possibility….

Oranges and pinks, deep blues and purples, yellows and soft greys – the combinations are infinite.

Rather than moulding the clouds into shapes and things, the apprentice wonders at stretching the clouds across the sky – spreading and swirling, streaking and splashing.

Where the Master is systematic, the Apprentice is instinctual – feeling the clouds, rather than shaping them. She longs to see her designs move beyond the canvas, but knows that is not the way of things. The Master Artist is responsible for the skyline – the Apprentice is responsible for keeping the paints topped up….

Early one morning, after painting long into the night, the Apprentice was feeling particularly exhausted. The brushes weren’t as clean as they should be, the paints not as full as expected and the Master was none too pleased with the delay.

The clouds took on a stormy-like quality – always impacted by the mood of the Master.

The Apprentice longed to impress her mentor, but could sense that things were not going well. She rushed from task to task, attempting to turn things around, but tiredness often leads to clumsiness and a mistake was unavoidable….

Paints of countless colours, tumbled from the angel’s arms, spilling every which way. The vibrant hues, that remained mostly unused on the Master’s sky, poured through the clouds, revealing a rainbow – a kaleidoscope of magnificence.

The Apprentice waited for her punishment, certain she had let the Master down….

Instead, the clouds reflected pure joy. Flecks of yellow, tinges of pink – the sky was the picture of happiness, as was the Master Artist.


Tradition can be lovely, but change provides a rainbow of possibilities.

The Master artist still enjoys shaping his fluffy clouds into puppies and dragons, but he finishes work a little earlier these days… leaving the sunset sky to his young Apprentice.

Melissa Longo




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