Ground To Pieces

‘Fragments and crumbs of life, all the little pieces’ John Ruskin, 1853 they had crushed the bevelled mirror of his life into a thousand pieces hammer blows in fury anger and well calculated attempts of engraving a picture of conformity for their own benefits and hollow consumption and yet he had willingly colluded and opened up his line of defences denial rationalization projection and the transmogrification of Self only to realize that it wasn’t funny after all and the laugh was on them he had become a tragicomedy a commodity of errors on a lost stage even when he attempted to draw the last curtain the fabric refused to drape his dying remains into a veil of innocence and fitting demise ‘I must refuse to lend them my chisel its chips off my block after all’ when he looked at the shards however his cold blood started to boil sent him into a mode of final reckoning in order to surrender or die ‘my life is a puzzle with too many pieces and an allegory for suffering´ but he recalled that the whole was greater than the sum of its parts preferable to a bullet hole or to be nailed to a trivial cross by the road he began to remodel the colour and shape of the moribund fragments cut copied and pasted himself into a new fabric and tapestry unfolded ‘better a clown than a hangman a fool is the jester calling for wisdom’ he crafted a collage and decoupaged a fresh canvas from new etching smoothened the edges and decided that some matters will never fit into a society of bigotry hypocrisy and oppression in a careless world paper stone scissors only this time the sculpture is not rigged any more ‘I’ll play on my own for a while much better to be lonely than crowded´ he sanded the dice according to his own needs until they were round a pot of ink for self-exploration and a bucket of staples glue and clips and the movie began to reveal a new narrative of his unfolding narrative surely one can eat crumbs when hungry but ‘poisoned morsels I won’t’ when he had finished Mona Lisa still grimaced and Vincent´s ear bleed Munch had not stopped screaming and Guernica had not been rebuilt instead he drew like Picasso which was all both had always intended ´I was screwed for too long’ have applied pliers and wretched wrenches vices and bolt cutters misdemeanours and superglued misperceptions ‘all I need is a hand drill to relieve pressure and a few new nuts and bolts when he looked through a magnifying glass at his hard graft and craft he found a kaleidoscope and a prism worthy of reflection and resilience he remained at the studio’s periphery but had repositioned his centre existence comes before essence but fragments are mere building blocks 25th August 2020 'existence before essence' is a synopsis of existentialist philosophy as posited by Jean Paul Sartre