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Everyone Is Innocent

Memory of the Garden at Etten (Ladies of Arles) by Vincent Van Gogh (image source: wikipedia)
Memory of the Garden at Etten (Ladies of Arles) by Vincent Van Gogh (image source: wikipedia)

Poetry surrounds us everywhere, but putting it on paper is, alas, not so easy as looking at it. ~ Vincent Van Gogh

Vincent Van Gogh was one of the masters of painting. A true visionary. Yet he was not revered for his work. He was demonized, ridiculed and cast away.

It took years for the public to appreciate his perspective, long after he was dead.

It is the same with many artists all over the world, be they painters, writers, actors, musicians. They are maligned and unappreciated for their talents.

It is also the same with many individuals, whatever their profession or skills. Fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, men and women of various attributes, people of all caliber, they just cannot bring themselves to be understood at the time they are doing something. Only in hindsight do they shine.

Why?

Because not everyone understands. Someone someday understands, somehow, somewhere, but it always takes time.

On that understanding a new world is born, a far cry from the one upheld by those who never paid attention, whose only legacy were the pain they dished to those they marginalized and the anguish they provided as they revelled in the slime of their own circumstance.

Let those who have understanding reckon that theirs is the way onwards. Everything hinges not on what pretends and languishes but on what resonates with time; not ‘with the times’ but with Time. The rest are compost for the earth. Necessary, transient nutrients to feed the ever-growing soul, the indomitable spirit of creation, like the one found in an artist crushed by consensus, only to be redeemed by it, so that his light may inspire others onward.

In the midst of all this, humanity is nonchalant. It carries on foolishly, laughing at its own miscarriages and atrocities, heading off for a swim to cleanse itself after every dirty deed, however unstated it may be, so that it may keep doing what it is doing without guilt or shame, or even the slightest sense of complicity.

You see, in this world, everyone is innocent. Or so everyone thinks.

The original article first appeared in Urban Times.