These four men terrify me

Out of Africa painting by Ivor Tymchak

It is what they represent.

When I look at this image, something deep inside of me stirs. It goes way, way back to the reptilian brain, behind the wall of consciousness. I’m reminded of something. Something incredibly precious which I once owned but now have lost. It is such an old memory that I have to trust my gut, as my consciousness refuses to acknowledge it.

As with the concept of death, my sense of self cannot accept the idea that I have travelled so far from the sacred place where communion with the whole of nature was a permanent gift. The question of meaning was as difficult a concept to grasp then, as the idea of oneness with the universe, is today.

The loneliness is unbearable.

This is why we create art. It is a palliative for the pain of separation from the rest of the universe.

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