the worst thing
His one guiding light, his one saving grace, the one thing keeping him afloat, is his dream of making it to Camelot. Meeting King Arthur. Becoming a knight. Being welcomed to the Round Table and being given a seat.
He sets out. He gets there. And then...discovers that Arthur is dead. Killed in battle, along with most of the other knights of the Round Table too.
He arrives too late to see the brightness of Camelot's glory and potential, but in enough time to see all the hope and light of his world fade away.
Devastated, Collum reels in crushing disbelief:
"It was unimaginable, but he didn't have to imagine it, because there it was, right in front of him. The world in all its unlimited horribleness had imagined it for him. Arthur was dead. And now - he thought miserably, selfishly - who's going to fix me? Of all the horrible things he's imagined happening when he got to Camelot, this was much worse than the worst of them.
But, perhaps, he's wrong. It could have been worse than this. What if he arrived at Camelot to find an Arthur nothing like the one he imagined. Instead of a noble ruler full of virtue and adventure, what if he found a power-hungry tyrant bent only on garnering the desires of his capricious will? Imagine discovering that all the legends were lies. Examples of political propaganda to manipulate the populace into fealty. Imagine discovering that there's nothing left to believe in.
Perhaps, worse still, if Collum came to Camelot and it was everything he dreamed it would be. If Arthur lived up to and beyond all the high esteem of every story. If the knights proved to be more valiant than any tale could tell. If Collum was given the coveted seat, if he achieved all the greatness of his fantasies, and then found that he was still unhappy. Still dissatisfied. Still broken. That after everything, he still wasn’t fixed.
The only thing worse that not getting what you want, is getting it, and discovering it doesn't change a damn thing.
On any given week I pivot between all three scenarios when it comes to art. I'm despondent that I took so long to lean into it. To start taking it seriously. That I let too many years go by, and now that I'm really doing it, really pursuing it, I'm too late.
Sometimes I'm disheartened by the fact that even the noble pursuit of art making, of reveling in the beautiful, the true, and the good, is still inundated by greed and dishonesty.
But, more than these, I'm confronted with the unimaginable horribleness that nothing I achieve will mend the rends within me. The hurt and hungry and hollow parts of myself are still gnawing away at everything. The ferality of my own want trapped in a corner, still red in tooth, still desperate to escape.
The fact of the matter is that none of it is true, and yet all of it is. It's never just one thing, but many. A tapestry of interwoven paradoxes.
Nothing is ever fixed. Nothing ever truly mended. And yet, healing happens. It's just that it only happens in the present tense. As a collaborative process, a continual unfolding, and we are active participants.
Happiness is fleeting and unreliable, but joy encompasses everything.
The answers you find will never be satisfying, but there is fulfilment in the searching and in the asking.
Some voids never get filled, but you can harness the want and use it as fuel in creating something more meaningful.
In the struggle, in the mess, in the disappointment and the brokenness, you find that all the trite things are true; the only thing that really matters is the process. Nothing else will do.
P.S. ICAD Day 80-82
P.P.S - A few more square pieces for an upcoming Exhibition I’m planning to submit work to.
Duane, I like the small square ones especially.
Yes, we all find ourselves in the middle of it. But I think the thing is, we are always exactly on time,
with exactly what we need for exactly the next step. No need to look back with regret or forward with dread if we take refuge in this moment with open arms, open mind, open heart. That means dropping the baggage of the past, quieting the mind of needless thought and expectation and clearing the heart of the clouds of emotion so we can read our intuition. That takes intention, time and discipline and hence a lot of patience which is something you can only develop once you have run out of it.
“Nothing is ever fixed. Nothing ever truly mended. And yet, healing happens. It's just that it only happens in the present tense. As a collaborative process, a continual unfolding, and we are active participants.”
A cure might be impossible—but Healing (loving presence) is what brings wholeness and comfort.