i find myself rereading Sibelius Russell’s poem yet again, this time dictionary in hand, to check the meanings of words such as ekphrasis.
And again i am drawn by the double depth of meaning in this poem; (only there are other paintings by Mondrian i would align it with such as his earlier paintings of apple trees or his later painting Boogie Woogie.) In any event it cries out the human dilemma we all must face,
how to find meaning in our lives. Painters must paint and writers write and all of us can hold that thin thread of hope which binds us together.
"align yourself, and live in ways that will bring order to your days -" advice that some might follow, if the world allowed us to but only in the things we make does chaos, and its constant ache, find any easing in our minds; just simple things we do -- to make some sense of what's beyond the furthest truth that we can know; an antifragile entropy to which our efforts all must go so paint with lines of love, and see the colors of humanity; align yourself with hope, and be an ordered shape, yet always free