Contradictions

There was a faint smell of wet paint, mixed with the soothing smell of an open fire, crackling softly as the shadow of embers danced against the wall. There was the occasional croak of a frog, intermittent amidst the gentle hum of crickets that announced that the cool winter evenings had given way to warmer weather. Aside from the natural rhythm of this white noise, the night was still and quiet. Alone in his barn, Samuel soaked up the serenity, and smiled at the irony of an open fire, an odd contradiction on a warm night. Samuel’s smile faded as the memories rolled in- his whole life was a contradiction. As he worked deftly on the artwork in front of him, he recalled who he used to be- ‘Sam’. Fun loving, hilarious, ruffian Sam. Sam was well liked in his youth- he was smart, confident, athletic and had a bright future in front of him. Yet here he sat, an older version of himself, known only as the recluse ‘Samuel’, scruffy, sad, and always grumpy. As Samuel considers his younger self, the dissonance of this contradiction gives him pause as he works on his art. Sighing, he moves away from his easel and peers out the barn door at the still night. The stars are bright, and he can feel a cool breeze on his face, the type of breeze that is trying to warm up as it exits winter. Maybe that’s what he needed. To be more like the breeze and step out of the cool existence that had frozen him in his barn since his partner had flown into the night, never to return. Samuel turns sharply away from the barn door- it doesn’t matter where he is or what he does, the pain never leaves his side. Not a physical pain, for he was quite fit for his grey age, but the insidious and searing pain of grief. She was gone, and no painting, no contemplating, no amount of hiding from his life could erase that fact. Young ‘Sam’ never saw this coming, but now he was as wise as an owl, it was as clear as those stupid stars in the sky to Samuel. His love for her was not sufficient, or perhaps misdirected, never landing in her heart the way it needed to. He thought back to the night that she left. They had argued, over something stupid too. It was a familiar and empty argument, achieving nothing but compounding the layer of hardness of her heart that he had dedicated too many years to building. As a tear rolls from his eye, Samuel roughly brushes it away, once again angry with himself for allowing thoughts of her to provoke emotion. It was her foolish choice to go out on such a night, knowing the inherent dangers at that time of year. It was not unusual for her to return early morning on her infrequent nights out, but as the days rolled into weeks, into months, Samuel had made the choice to permanently close off his heart to her. He had to as this was the only way that the grief would not swallow him up and incapacitate him completely. Contradiction, like the crackling fire in the corner of the barn, which dimly lit Samuel’s art studio. Ha! Art studio indeed, how ridiculous. Sam the strong would never sit alone like this, absentmindedly dabbing rough patches of paint onto a blank canvas. That Sam was unruffled by life, proud and the envy of many. But she had undone him completely, turning him into a softer and kinder version of himself, filling his life with unexpected treasure. And so, her disappearance had the effect of a black hole in that starry sky- it created a dark void where nothingness was all he knew. Contradictions. A black hole in such a bright and happy night sky. Standing in the middle of his barn, Samuel shudders at the overwhelming feelings, feeling a wry smile at the fact that he could feel both endless nothingness and yet be unmovable by the weight of feeling. He stares at his artwork, complete except for his signature, the mark that forever joined this artwork to himself. Samuel always hesitated at this part of the process. Perhaps he felt ashamed. He guessed that creating art with passion and joy was a part of himself he was not yet willing to accept. With purposeful steps, Samuel picks up the pen and with one swift movement signs his artwork and stands back to look once more at the masterpiece he had created to remember her by. The painting has soft lines, the colours matched, and it is clear that this is the most passionate artwork he has created. Samuel is both pleased and astonished at himself, and at the beauty of the painting. Samuel glances at the barn door, and back at the painting. With one swift move, he douses the open fire, briefly pausing to watch the embers die and the smoke trail into the air. And with renewed energy, he hefts his aging body towards the door and begins to ascend to the skies with practiced wings, confident to reach those starry skies. Perhaps he will join the night hunt alongside the other barn owls, in search of unaware field mice, and once again take his place as patriarch. Or perhaps he will find that black hole where his beloved surely resides.