It was indeed. [Probably not to the people being attacked by the dragons, but Kuja certainly thought so. She smiles, a trifle wistfully.] If you could have seen them in flight, it would have stolen the breath from your body.

[Kuja considers the canvas, in silence at first. A flame flickers along the end of one of her fingers, but no, she will not destroy it. That isn't in line with her new way of thinking.] It has no sense of--color, of depth, of motion, of form. Of anything. Assuredly not of beauty.

At least you're in no danger of being labeled a prodigy. So you will escape the pressure of being called upon to outdo yourself.