Exhilarated Despair

A couple months back, I ordered a retrospective book on the revered post-war artist Francis Bacon. 

I made the purchase on a whim, telling myself that I wanted to better understand the man. But that was only half the answer. Reading through the introductory passages last night helped me to better understand myself.

In explaining his creativity, Bacon speaks to a certain duality in himself, noting how he can be both optimistic and yet devoid of hope at the same time. The Dublin born native came to define this curious phenomenon as exhilarated despair. 

This notion resonated with me and forced me to admit that I subscribe to a similar philosophy. Like Bacon, I have an inner joie de vivre, forever hungry for adventure and possessed with an inner curiousity not dissimilar to our four-legged canine friends.

And yet, at the very same time, I can’t help feeling lost at sea. Every time I pick up a history book or tune into the news of the world I fall into despair, wringing my hands at our self-destructive impulses and the careless devastation done to our majestic blue planet. 

This inner tension exists within all of us and when we have the patience to receive it we start to understand ourselves in all new shades of gray.

Xo