Failure

This gate, in the window of an housed fireplace on Maranatha campus, is beautiful. It was crafted to perfection by a trained hand. It is profound. It is not natural. It is art.

I'm convinced that passions and desires and goals, because of their crafted nature, are artistic as well. As for me, I have goals and desires and passions. I have a future in mind for myself. I have crafted it so that it is truly beautiful within my mind. However, and to my disappointment, sometimes life does not allow one to pursue their passions by the vehicle they originally selected. In these times, one is forced to abandon what they had hoped to achieve and look for another route to accomplish their goals and to fuel their passions. Such a road block has occurred in my own life; a goal and desire I had for so long, molded into a truly beautiful future, was thwarted. Now is the time to readjust, but remorse is unavoidable. My sadness comes from the abandonment of my specific route of action, from my planned future, and from my work of art. Though I know I am capable of creating anew and enduring a longer road of uncertainty, there comes a sense of loss, to leave your art work behind and to let the cobwebs collect over its beautifully planned frame for you know its form will soon crumble to ruin. As for me, I search for the next goal, the next path, the next desire to strive for. I am not deterred. Though, there, behind me, stands my former goal, already wilting from failure's heat.

As I stood in the darkened fireplace room, the forgotten window gate, the forgotten art, saddened me. I knew it was too late for the gate, and that the spiders had claimed it for good, but the idea was too present to merely walk away. I lifted my Nikon D70 to my face, pressed that little silver button, and, hearing the sound of my shutter, knew I would not soon forget one man's past art.