madness’s honesty

old art

It was a time of honest madness and of madness’s honesty, up all night in a small, dirty apartment, writing, drawing, sculpting, forgetting to eat or sleep. If not doing one of those three things, I had my nose in a philosophy book, furiously scribbling smudgy notes, my pedestrian notions, that had arrived only by the grace of reading the brilliant thoughts of truly great men. By contrast, I was just a cat batting at my own shadows on the wall. Still, I read.

There were some women during that time, attracted to the art, wishing to understand the artist. In truth, despite my introspection, I didn’t fully understand myself. None of them lasted, and while I hungered to be known to someone, by someone, none were even capable of understanding. They weren’t the one, if such a thing exists; I’ve argued otherwise. Still– each, in time, became a thought unspoken, a conversation abandoned.

Then, after all the tumult of finding myself, or parts thereof, even at the expense of love, I abandoned myself as well, for twenty years. I became what I had eschewed, a shill for the corporate world, stable and respectable. Given enough time to dissect it all, I might discover the reasons, though I’ve my suspicions.

I’m back now, ready to find the rest of me, that which I had torn to confetti, like a bad sketch, that which I’d given the wind’s careless whims two decades prior. The crude rendering above, which I have always felt captured my essence closely, is a twenty year old self portrait, large sections not yet solved, the entirety loosely defined, less known than unknown, unfinished, as are we all.

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24 thoughts on “madness’s honesty”

  1. Eric, we’re all mysteries, even to ourselves. Cryptic passwords that morph… I’m forever holding back my posts, but I have one about that very thing, too… With you in the mysterious unravelings.

  2. Wow! Thank you for sharing so much of your self! I feel as though, for a moment, I have seen your eyes, and the Light of the soul within. I am honored and humbled by it…

    Time is a great mystery and a great deceiver, as I am discovering; nothing is truly wasted, no “adventure” is misguided, no matter how mad or mundane. We live, we learn, we love. And if we are truly blessed, as I believe you are, we share that journey in tales of woe and victory that Others can relate to…

    Again, I say thank you! 🙂

    1. Good morning Lisa. What a pleasure it is to read such kind words upon logging in, and what a pleasure it is to know you, or to begin to. Thank you so much. I’ve regrets, like anyone, but then again, on another level, I’ve none. Each choice and event brought me to where I am, and to the gifts that I’ve received.

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