Sunday, July 27, 2014


I have just finished the second in a series of three paintings on the subject of moral development, entitled: Prokoptón (a prokoptón is someone who makes progress). It's about how to become a better person - and how hard it is.


The starmap serving as the background for the painting contains the Saggitarius constellation (the name can be found by the man's left ear). Saggitarius means archer.

You can bend over backwards trying to be good, but still, the outcome of your actions is something that is not in your power, no matter how wonderful a person you are being. That's why I refer to the Stoic symbol of the archer in  this painting. Of course, an archer's ideal is to hit the bull's eye. However, even for an archer of olympic standard there are many things not in his power that can put a spanner in the works. There might be a sudden gust of wind, the arrow might be imbalanced, or the archer might get a sudden stitch in his side or muscle spasm. 

The Stoic archer's goal, then, is not to hit the target; it is to shoot well:  you can't do more than your best.

The owl of wisdom is sitting on the man's shoulder, ready to whisper some good advice into his ear, but its talons are digging into his flesh, drawing blood.

Our psyche is something that most of us find hard to manage. You only have to look at the statistics to know that this is so: large numbers of people are in serious psychological trouble, or will be at some point in their life. Living hurts. What Stoics wish for people, is for them to realize that they can learn not to give in those fears and desires that are harmful to themselves or others.

Pain, fear, and desire are like alarm bells that go off in our brain, alerting us to danger and opportunities. What Stoics want to learn is to keep a little distance, a little wiggle room between thought and action. We want to teach ourselves to recognize false alarms. So hopefully, we won't start running blindly when the next siren goes off. 

That learning process can be pretty painful, which is the reason for the injuries caused by the owl's talons...

Knowing that we only have to be concerned with what is in our power; knowing we can learn to choose not to give in to fears and desires: it's a relief, because what this knowledge brings is our surest chance of happiness: a happiness that does not depend on anything in the outside world. It's hard work, of course. But so worth it for the times when we succeed!






Monday, July 14, 2014

KLIK HIER VOOR DE NEDERLANDSE VERSIE

Today, I finished the first of a series of three paintings on the subject of moral development, entitled: Tabula Rasa.

THE BLANK SHEET 

Baby horses can stand right after birth, baby turtles crawl out of the egg right into the sea, but when we humans are born, we start with nothing. It's amazing really, how much of our humanity is missing at the beginning. As babies we not only lack the co-ordination needed to fend for ourselves; we have no knowledge of the world to make sense of it, to make fun of it or to reason with it (or rage against it). Least of all do we know how to reciprocate in a relationship, how to behave in polite company, how to curb our impulses for the good of others: in other words, of morality.

Ancient Stoics had a good term for this: they said that we are born 'a blank sheet' (or Tabula Rasa). We know nothing about how to be a good human being, although we carry the 'seed of goodness' in us, waiting to come to fruition. The sheet still has to be written on.

My model for the Tabula Rasa was my little cousin Jip, four weeks old. A baby so new that everything about him was still unfocused: his eyes, his movements... a human being at the very beginning of life. 


As a background I have chosen a map of (part of) the universe. This is a modern astronomical map, we are modern Stoics after all. The Stoic idea, now corroborated by science, that we are part of the universe, that our atoms are as old as the universe and will continue to exist within the universe after we die, is symbolized by the lines and numbers of the map going right through Jip's body:

He is literally part of the astronomical chart, and it is part of him.

A cross-section of an egg is part of the map; this symbolizes two things. First, exemplifies the seed of goodness, from which, with the right care, the owl of wisdom will grow. Wisdom, being the mother of all cardinal virtues, stands for morality in my painting. Secondly, the egg symbolizes the egg of the phoenix, the Stoic symbol of the universe and renewal of life.