Just as the little slug, the remora, scorning the impetus of wind and oars, can by itself stop a ship from moving, so some trivial reason holds back in mid-course people who through intellect and ability are on their way to the stars: for example, a worrying law-suit, or that desire for whores which entices young men away from their good studies.
https://www.emblems.arts.gla.ac.uk/alciato/emblem.php?id=A21a083
THE EMBLEM – John Manning
It is the end of MMXX and by all accounts – a dark year. There has been the occasional knock on the door but a fear of clowns and a plague ruled the land.
Though perhaps perversely for AfW – this year of solitude was a welcomed sanctuary revealed in the guttering light of his life. A heroic path out of the Necropolis of social responsibilities and the gilded middle class mediocrity.
Joan had sustained a made for one crevice in the World Rock.
A grotto to call home.
A not uncomfortable metaphor for rebirth that had always been the hoped for endgame of the decade-long Fool’s Journey MMX ~ MMXX that saw him age LXVII~LXXVII.
Bought by his children in December 2018 the Worker’s Brick Cottage 1865 has been modified to now have reliable wifi – some resistance to challenging weather patterns and the Gazania and rock decked dirt footpath outside the front door is doing well.
A good place indeed to finish his time on Earth. Somewhere, his Tazmanian father Jeff, dead at LX probably dreamt of – somewhere perfectly situated between the police station and the catholic church.
His end holds no mystery for him. Now with more parts of his body missing a beat than he can be bothered spending the time fixing. Life like ebbing waves surmounting a childhood sand dyke – enough effort has been spent defending and restoring. Time now to stand back – breathless hands on hips, watching – not waiting – for the inevitable that is to come.
So much more engrossing than concerning. The super nova he gets to watch. He considers himself privileged to be awake and onstage for the final curtain.
The new studio house on the hill behind Joan – the Palace on Knossos – is nearly complete. Soon grave goods can be moved into its ark – a final resting place for Anthony Frederick Ward – who still chooses to live his life as a story from the Empire Boys C’mas Annual Circa 1958.
