A metaphor for Life and Death
The macaroni is a symbol of infinity. Two ends that are the same. A sad shape in a happy color.
As a child, I always felt this profound sadness when the closing sequence of any anime or cartoon shows I loved came on, even when I had the next hundred of episodes sitting in a stack of pirated DVDs my dad made for my mom and I. I dreaded the end of the weekend. As the hour approached 6 PM on Sunday, when my mom would have to eventually bring me back to my grandparents’ place so I could go to school the next day - the end and then the beginning. I don’t dread goodbyes anymore but they still make me sad.
The night club with the luxurious looking rooms, pool tables, plush furniture, well dressed men and scantily clad women. They haunt my imagination. Most nights I stay up past the AM hours, the same hours when my parents used to work at the night club. It’s the same hours now that I make these paintings. The hours past midnight are supposed to be the beginning of a new day, but they exist in the limbo of an ending and a beginning.
Children rushing to finish their weekend homework so they could start running around playing tag in a declining business of adult entertainment. The geometry of all the objects- the cue balls, the chips, the die, the whiskey glasses... the rooms, the hallways- don’t forget the dim lighting, the colored lights. It was fantasia.
I am sad to be alone after the night’s farewell, but I also fear getting hurt when I am with you. I fear making a fool of myself, I fear your ridicule, or worse, being ignored. I fear rejection. I want to fit into you.
We are not unlike each other, you and I. After all, don’t you want to fit into me just as much? We are more alike than most believe. Two ends that are the same.