Whole of life by Keanan Eltaweel.
The whole of life. In a few pencil strokes.
Lifetimes can be spent, and sometimes lost, figuring this sort of stuff out.
Keanan and I make things together. Things like cards. So when my latest nephew was born, I suggested we make something to welcome him into this world. Literally minutes later – I thought he hadn’t registered what I’d said and was doodling instead of listening … shame on me – he showed me this sketch.
And it blew me away. The whole of life. Just like that.
Look. Really look. And take it all in.
The baby. Full of expectation and the joys that await. Happy, boisterous, bouncy, curious baby. Love the tooth, the raised eyebrows, the belly button, nipples, sprouting hair. Just everything. Wanting to leap out of the page, into my lap, look into my eyes and believe I’m the best, most interesting, knowledgeable creature ever.
Then comes the ‘kid’ phase. And boy can you feel his attitude. It’s in every pencil stroke. He’s leaning back, burping with gusto (the energy lines speak volumes). Gosh. Pre-teen and hormonal. You have a sense of dread looking at him – because you know what it’s like dealing with it.
Next the phase when we tend to lose the plot, when we get sucked into becoming office robots, lose our passion, are over our heads in debt, become more chained to the office chair, and whittle away life. This guy certainly seems to have no sense of self and motivation.
He has ‘average’ stamped all over him. He’s in his uniform of work: tie and suit, staring inanely at his computer. Conforming, not really contributing. “Duh”.
And what is it all for?
The baby is now grown. He is in his twilight years. TV blaring, walking stick by his side. Perhaps he’s talking at the TV – no one there for him to chat with. Perhaps no longer able to control his movements and is flailing. He’s gone full circle. You can see the tufts of hair once again, but none of the euphoria of being alive.
For at the end, if we survive that long, we are wrinkly, wobbly people, sitting in the waiting room. Waiting. Just waiting. For the end.
Keanan had just turned 8 when he created it. And gosh it stopped me in my tracks. Even I, and I do a lot to be mindful and conscientious and live a ‘deliberate’ life, hadn’t seen the sequence and cycle with such clarity and simplicity. Scary stuff. Shows is in a nanosecond what out journey is. The missing bits are for you to fill in. But in essence, these 4 illustrations showcase perfectly the pivotal and what we will all share on our journeys. Not everyone will have children, families, adventure. But we each have been born, and will end up shouting at a TV somewhere in the universe. Waiting for death.
Here’s to having a great, deliberate life in the meantime.
