Canvas of Love

“The best is yet to come” he said to himself while his right hand let go of his brush.

If a man is gifted even just one of the many talents that the heavens can grace, painting was his forte. Creating a single portrait or a large canvas did not matter to him. For no task was too great for the master artist. He was sought by many, both rich and famous, just to have their portraits done. For many years the works of his hands have allowed him to fill his stomach and gave him a decent home that he can call his own.

“There by the river south from here you can find the man that you are seeking, my lord” said the shepherd while looking down at the ground and slightly bowing to a dominant figure in front of him. He was more afraid of this man than the rest of the many soldiers who stood at his back. After hearing what the old peasant had said, the man wearing a bronze breast plate and a flowing crimson cape on his back, gazed upon the pointed direction. He no longer cast a second glimpse of interest at the shepherd. The area was swirling with dust after the riders took off. The shepherd was thankful and felt relieved that his life was spared. He knew that they were warriors of a foreign land and men like them often do not show mercy.

The place was ever so old and simple. Dusk was falling when they arrived down the river where the house of the painter stood. Looking around he saw an old man seating by his chair as if in the midst of contemplating. The general did not waste any moment and dared to disturb the old painter from his meditation. “Are you the man who can preserve the very essence of a person through the wonders of his hands?”intentionally letting his voice be loud thinking that the old man’s hearing maybe failing.

“There is no power given to men that can bestow immortality through his creations. Go away leave this old man in peace.” he signaled the men to depart.

But the general was not easily swayed by the old man’s rude gesture. If a warrior knew one thing it is persistence that decides one’s victory over things.

Old man, I have traveled far and long. I am regarded as a wise man by many. My will was constantly tested by warfare and struggles. My sword has been continually sharpened by the blood of my enemies and my loyal men are my constant companions. In this way I have found out the very meaning of life.

“We live for an instant, only to be swallowed in complete forgetfulness and the void of infinite time on this side of us.” “Think how many ere now, after passing their life in implacable enmity, suspicion, hatred… are now dead and burnt to ashes.” Everything will be turned in absolute oblivion, even legends. “Of the life of man the duration is but a point, its substance streaming away, its perception dim, the fabric of the entire body prone to decay, and the soul a vortex, and fortune incalculable, and fame uncertain.”

“In a word all things of the body are as a river, and the things of the soul as a dream and a vapor; and life is a warfare and a pilgrim’s sojourn, and fame after death is only forgetfulness.” ‘Everything existing “is already disintegrating and changing… everything is by nature made but to die.” ‘

“The length of one’s life is irrelevant, for look at the yawning gulf of time behind thee and before thee at another infinity to come. In this eternity the life of a baby of three days and the life of a Nestor of three centuries are as one.” ‘To desire is to be permanently disappointed and disturbed, since everything we desire in this world is “empty and corrupt and paltry.” “That is why I persecuted those who regarded themselves as Christians for spreading madness about eternal life after death.”

For Marcus Aurelius, death was desirable, because it would make an end to all desires. The old man stayed silent.“Tomorrow you shall give me immortality or you shall taste my blade” the general said no more.

The horizon was dawning. The old man woke up early to prepare his wooden palette and searched for his remaining assortment of colors. The general was ecstatic to see that the old man has bent to his will. Three hours passed and Marcus Aurelius was eager to see the very mirror of himself. Forever preserved in a canvas made by the greatest painter of his time.

The moment he laid eyes on the canvas, the general burst in a total fury. There in front of him two broad strokes that appeared to be an image of the cross. Written below it are the words “Eternity is secured for Love was crucified.”

The enraged soldier quickly drew his sword and plunged it against the old man’s flesh. With a smile the painter uttered to himself, “the best is yet to come.” His right hand let go of the brush as he fell to the ground and breath his last.

NOTE: The view of Marcus Aurelius is an excerpt from his work,Meditations written in Greek while in a campaign between 170 to 180.