The last two weeks have been a difficult time and part of a difficult year. A lot of people have died. Most recently an uncle who was unique in causing a lot of... issues.
He was a brilliant man, a famous artist on this island country of mine, his death made the papers. He sat on government panels, led cultural exchanges and helped a lot of people. He had a great love of teaching, abandoning a promising art career to focus on it. His funeral this past weekend had nearly a thousand people at it and was livestreamed. Another was held yesterday on the North Island for people who couldn't make it to the first. He is the man who taught me my love of art. Though that part of me sleeps now, in the past I was rather prolific in painting and modeling. The digital world has left me behind there.
But for all he did and was, for all those he had, it wasn't enough. He died by his own hand and left so many people alone and shocked. This has severely impacted my family, traditional Catholics on my father's side, and inspired a lot of resentment. Indeed this is the first death I've experienced that has left me angry, and that surprises me after all the deaths that have happened this year. But everyone has been affected, which only makes it worse. This wasn't an action of the moment either, it was planned, maybe for months.
The whole thing has messed everyone around and caused wounds that may never heal. I had to do something to vent, and this is it. Not my uncle, whom I cannot touch, not yet, but my grandfather. He too was a great man, who taught me carpentry and how to build stuff. He made a living out of making furniture and I owe a lot to him. (The panda behind him is an old joke.) He was a quiet and peaceful and kind man, and his loss through natural causes also left a big hole in the world. Him I can loo back upon fondly and make a tribute with the benefit of long years from tragedy.
So this is to him, an unknown but great man in his own right and a belated twitching of what remains of my traditional art skills. I say this to everyone, tell your family you love them today, you never know when that'll be your last chance.
He was a brilliant man, a famous artist on this island country of mine, his death made the papers. He sat on government panels, led cultural exchanges and helped a lot of people. He had a great love of teaching, abandoning a promising art career to focus on it. His funeral this past weekend had nearly a thousand people at it and was livestreamed. Another was held yesterday on the North Island for people who couldn't make it to the first. He is the man who taught me my love of art. Though that part of me sleeps now, in the past I was rather prolific in painting and modeling. The digital world has left me behind there.
But for all he did and was, for all those he had, it wasn't enough. He died by his own hand and left so many people alone and shocked. This has severely impacted my family, traditional Catholics on my father's side, and inspired a lot of resentment. Indeed this is the first death I've experienced that has left me angry, and that surprises me after all the deaths that have happened this year. But everyone has been affected, which only makes it worse. This wasn't an action of the moment either, it was planned, maybe for months.
The whole thing has messed everyone around and caused wounds that may never heal. I had to do something to vent, and this is it. Not my uncle, whom I cannot touch, not yet, but my grandfather. He too was a great man, who taught me carpentry and how to build stuff. He made a living out of making furniture and I owe a lot to him. (The panda behind him is an old joke.) He was a quiet and peaceful and kind man, and his loss through natural causes also left a big hole in the world. Him I can loo back upon fondly and make a tribute with the benefit of long years from tragedy.
So this is to him, an unknown but great man in his own right and a belated twitching of what remains of my traditional art skills. I say this to everyone, tell your family you love them today, you never know when that'll be your last chance.
Category Artwork (Traditional) / Portraits
Species Human
Size 946 x 1280px
File Size 323.5 kB
Certain people who had a close, big impact one me have passed too, recently... I can only hope they still exist somewhere, even if my mind doesn't find any rational premises to think so...
My condolences, delayed by seven years, but why should time distance even matter as it never stops..
My condolences, delayed by seven years, but why should time distance even matter as it never stops..
The pain of intimate loss is something that has touched many of us, something that binds us in emotion. If you have never been touched by it you are innocent or fortunate beyond measure. If you cannot feel it, then you are a monster.
Time to me is as much of an anomaly as anything, Perhaps anything that has ever been always is. At some point time will bring the truth to me, be that an answer or oblivion. I am at peace with either.
Time to me is as much of an anomaly as anything, Perhaps anything that has ever been always is. At some point time will bring the truth to me, be that an answer or oblivion. I am at peace with either.
Such a loss is an important experience.. And inevitable.. Even if very much unwelcome..
I cannot help but feel like time is an illussion and not something that objectively exists, even in spite of what physicists say. But perhaps it's just my own lack of knowledge in these regards.
It would be comforting, in a way, if time was a real entity like in Kurt Vonnegut's 'slaughterhouse number 5' though.
I cannot help but feel like time is an illussion and not something that objectively exists, even in spite of what physicists say. But perhaps it's just my own lack of knowledge in these regards.
It would be comforting, in a way, if time was a real entity like in Kurt Vonnegut's 'slaughterhouse number 5' though.
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