Of Resurrection and Damnation and the Lady in Waiting

And shall come forth; they that are damned, unto the resurrection of life, unto a new age, the Age of Justus.

I'm pretty sure that's Nick Justus, in that image over on the left hand side. Now, don't misunderstand. It's not art BY Nick Justus, as in art rendered by his own hand. Rather, it is art OF Nick Justus, rendered by the hand of a friend and fellow Kubert School classmate of his, Gavin Smith, of the previously mentioned Four Horsemen fame.

To see the big picture, to behold the revelation of Nick's place in the greater scheme of things, where Gavin's particular art piece in question is concerned, one must be prepared to trek unto the Realm of the Gavin. You seek a place called Human City. Specifically, your destination is the image found here.

Nick Justus can probably relate to what it feels like to be a zombie. Or, as the term is more popularly referred to, these days, a walker. Life has its way of gripping us - of squeezing the life out of us. What we are left with, in those moments, is the tangible essence of mere existence.

Which is all the more reason why Nick Justus should - and must - seek release from the iron grip of life's everyday, ordinary, mind-numbing routine and ritual through his art.

While Nick Justus' artistic creations of Jesus E. Lee and Dick Fistus have been battling zombies (amongst other things) in his comic book creation, the Jesus E. Lee series, there's more than just a little poetic justice captured in Gavin Smith's decision to render Nick Justice and their Kubert School compatriots in zombie form.

Unlike how things work out in The Walking Dead television series (which I happen to be a fan of, by the way), in real life, whether we "turn" or not is ultimately dependent upon our own decision-making process as an individual. As a fan, I have no vested interest in Nick Justus ever choosing to allow the humdrummery of life to get the best of him, nor in him choosing to allow the never-ending drone of reality's dull edge to usurp his vigor for creating art from him.

A blank canvas or a blank sheet of paper poses a challenge to the artist. On countless occasions, Nick Justus has risen to the occasion, the occasion of converting blank space into something beautiful - into tangible works of actual art.

Thus, from out of nothing has Nick Justus proven himself to be a master of creating something - something of value, something of artistic worth. The Master Artist, our Creator, has given life unto each of us, breathing our souls into us like so much blown glass. All too often, it is tempting to give place to the comfort that a boring existence seeks to entice us to embrace. Life has a way of seeming almost meaningless, in the process, when we surrender to such temptations.

Yet, through his veins flow vigor and force and energy, this Nick Justus fellow. Like Doctor Strange or Doctor Fate, this resident artist-in-admiration must channel the sum totality of all of his talent and skill and ability, of all that he has ever learned, into his love for the art that he creates. Art is ever his eternal lady in waiting. He casts furtive glances, even as he often contents himself to ignore her. Yet, his muse incarnate, ever she awaits.

She awaits the touch that is only his to give. His art is a gift to the world, but more importantly, a gift to himself. Wrought by the creative Hand of God, Himself, Nick Justus' talent - his innate artistic talent - is something that he should exult in, at every available moment, at every available opportunity.

Verily, I say unto you, which is greater? The masterpiece? Or the master which creates it?

And so it is with Nick Justus and his art.

Art is his resurrection unto life. Mundane existence does not befit him.