Satyr Amongst the Naiads, French School, 17th centuryThere is a ripe and heavily scented sadness, which permeates all of life. It is not the fear of death, or the consequences of having lived, well or otherwise, but rather the longing of the soul’s search which leads to the discovery of oneself, possibly having been in vain. The absence of self. A nightmare from which one is never to be awakened. The seeking for the meaning of life: the Golden Fleece, the laurel crown, the collection of knowledge, a knowledge of God, the scramble to love and to be loved, to absorb the events which bring boons and those which bring pain. The highway upon which one travels to acquire knowledge and the ability to use ones mind to refine it, discarding superfluous elements and incorporating treasures all in order to find a way of living which embodies nobility and honor… and yet allowing oneself to have knowledge of those things which contrast with the light and good in order to see, just SEE. If life were a two dimensional work of art in whatever medium, the light is known because one knows how to manipulate the shadows. Ones life is necessarily the same as this canvas or print on paper or even a three dimensionally a sculpture, it all depends on high-lighting the darkness. Without the shadow there is nothing to SEE.
The exploration, however, of the darkness, this absence of light, the negative space, the lull in the music before the crescendo, the illness of ones mind and ones body is without a doubt a perilous journey. To choose the hunt and become aware of the absence of good, of a lack of honor and the abscence of light without doubt allows the temptation of these black, dim, sick, malformed and self destructive entities to grasp at ones protective garments, to pull and slash and shred the genuine protections of the spirit – for while the knowledge achieved grants above all devices an otherwise impossible depth in the appreciation of good and bestows the strongest desire for the beauty and the light of all things; whether the tenor’s high clear note, the artists masterpiece or the glorious soul of another man, this same acquisition challenges the purity of ones own spirit and the ability to love ones body and admire ones own mind without a hovering winged doubt that one has in the end only found that the night gives for a moment rest from the struggle.
Why does one search, how does this travel along these many shadowed paths begin? Is it in childhood the abrupt unchosen awakening of ones sexual being? Is it determined in part by the rigid stringent philosophies of religion, of politics which most often neglect to present themselves with love, understanding and compassion for those of us whom are different, those of us who find ourselves - without choice - to be beyond the expectations of ‘normality’? Absolutely,yes. Yet, as one becomes an adult, one must still make a choice to search for self determination or alternatively unwittingly abide by precepts simply handed down without reason, not with faith but in fear. One must eat of the fruit or wander aimlessly in a garden for which one has no appreciation of its cultivation. One is either sentient as a being or not. The precepts, the beliefs, the faith that one is advised wholeheartedly to follow and obey will hold no value if not deliberately chosen. What value in a choice, in truth is there a choice?, if understanding is absent?
This then will be paradise to me: to leave behind the shadow and the night and live deliciously and profoundly in the light. Heaven will be when the light has so encompassed one that no contrast with the shadow is necessary to See.
The exploration, however, of the darkness, this absence of light, the negative space, the lull in the music before the crescendo, the illness of ones mind and ones body is without a doubt a perilous journey. To choose the hunt and become aware of the absence of good, of a lack of honor and the abscence of light without doubt allows the temptation of these black, dim, sick, malformed and self destructive entities to grasp at ones protective garments, to pull and slash and shred the genuine protections of the spirit – for while the knowledge achieved grants above all devices an otherwise impossible depth in the appreciation of good and bestows the strongest desire for the beauty and the light of all things; whether the tenor’s high clear note, the artists masterpiece or the glorious soul of another man, this same acquisition challenges the purity of ones own spirit and the ability to love ones body and admire ones own mind without a hovering winged doubt that one has in the end only found that the night gives for a moment rest from the struggle.
Why does one search, how does this travel along these many shadowed paths begin? Is it in childhood the abrupt unchosen awakening of ones sexual being? Is it determined in part by the rigid stringent philosophies of religion, of politics which most often neglect to present themselves with love, understanding and compassion for those of us whom are different, those of us who find ourselves - without choice - to be beyond the expectations of ‘normality’? Absolutely,yes. Yet, as one becomes an adult, one must still make a choice to search for self determination or alternatively unwittingly abide by precepts simply handed down without reason, not with faith but in fear. One must eat of the fruit or wander aimlessly in a garden for which one has no appreciation of its cultivation. One is either sentient as a being or not. The precepts, the beliefs, the faith that one is advised wholeheartedly to follow and obey will hold no value if not deliberately chosen. What value in a choice, in truth is there a choice?, if understanding is absent?This then will be paradise to me: to leave behind the shadow and the night and live deliciously and profoundly in the light. Heaven will be when the light has so encompassed one that no contrast with the shadow is necessary to See.
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