Blog Post #1: Monday, September 14, 2020

Hello, take a moment to relax your jaw. This is a painting by Josef Kinzel. It is called “Evening Prayer.” He painted this in 1903, or at least that is the date given. As I write this first blog post, it is 5:51AM, I am listening to “Lucky” by Dehd on repeat, and keep staring at this painting on my laptop. The beginning lyrics of “Lucky” are, “Lucky to have people in my life with the power to break my heart”, and it seems like these could be the soundtrack to this painting.

Rain has been falling every day for the past seven days. I’m not sure if it is raining right now (my headphones are on), but the combination of these experiences keep priming me to become solemn, similar to this unknown man taking pause to pray while scything this field. One idea that I keep struggling with is how to find beauty in loss or potentially, ruin. This song, this painting, this rain, and where I am with my life all seem to be centered around loss. Beauty appears to be hinting toward delayed gratification, which is difficult because my patience has packed its bags. However, deciphering each of these helps me come to terms with life: The song makes me realize how fortunate I am to at least been able to invest myself emotionally into other people that their absence hurts. This painting makes me think about a deeper sense of absence, which is the absence of faith/god, which all one can do is wait for. The rain backgrounds all of this with an underlying feeling of helplessness to everything. Again, it appears that the only option is to wait it all out.

Last week I pulled three cards (past, present, future) for a tarot reading. At the time what those cards indicated felt like bullshit. They each indicated a change in my own perception, as well as my own personhood. If that reading meant that I was going to become more sad, then they were correct, but it is probably too early to tell. In a lot of novels, maybe poems or films too, rain becomes an overused signaling toward change in a timeline. Cool Hand Luke’s rain is probably the first to come to mind, as that whole movie shoves allegorical shit in the viewer’s face. It is always some sort of washing away of sin or thematic departure into despair yadda yadda yadda. That being said, sometimes rain is just rain. I have to remind myself that. Otherwise this past week of rain could symbolize a lot of either good or bad things to come that is probably better to not brood about.

The conclusion I have come to is staying busy will make this waiting go quicker. I am not quite sure what I am waiting for, or potentially who I am waiting for, but maybe it is time for me to metaphorically stop praying and continue scything my field. I am about to begin reading the collected poems of Bob Kaufman which will help.