The Painting
What Everything Proves is Ultimate Truth
Early one afternoon late August (or early September) 1968, on my way to my room, I walked past the hospital café, and when I looked to my left there, leaning against the café wall, was a large painting of the world.
No, seriously: As epiphany, I saw that the world and everyone in it was just a painting, wherein: if you looked up you saw God and Good and Heaven and all those wholesome things your grandmother tried to teach you and when you looked down you saw the Devil and Evil and Hell — the bad stuff.
I don’t know where the painting sprung from, but I know that at the time I was on a mission to find the truth that everything proves — for only a truth meeting that criterion would be the real truth (as in the ultimate, absolute one) so went my reasoning. For if everything, except for a single ant’s third left leg proved an isolated truth, whether discovered or reasoned, it would still not be the ultimate truth, for here was this one ant’s leg that threw the equation out.
No, to be the capital-T truth, it had to be proven by every-thing, through all time: nothing short of that would be the capital-T Truth, the one I was looking for.
The painting I had now stopped to inspect in more detail, was densely populated by trees and flowers, birds and animals, and people, everywhere: people. Many of them looking up either in wonder or supplication — in prayer; many looking down at unwholesome thoughts or deeds: planned or done — grinning like the Devil, my grandmother Olga would have said, look at them. Most, though, were looking neither up nor down, they were watching television.
Two amazing certainties came to simultaneous fruition: I realized that I was not looking at a painting of the world, I was looking at the actual world itself — and that, so strange, the world itself was a painting, nothing but: it was painted.
And a third certainty blossomed: to perceive good above and evil below you had to be part of this painting, within that frame of reference (pun intended). Standing outside the painting, regarding it, you can see neither good nor bad, all you see is painting.
What a strange setup. Like a movie. Who was the painter? Who was directing this tragedy (or was it farce)? God? Brahman?
And a final notion blossomed and took wing: when I find the truth, the truth I was looking for, this painting would sprig to more life than life and step out itself, laughing.
© Wolfstuff
