The Aggression in Me

The above picture is part of a work in progress called: Lohbado's Dance of Death. Dance of Death is a respected genre, popularized during the middle ages, during the time of the plagues. One of the most famous death dances was Holbein's series of woodcuts, The Dance of Death.

Death is part of everyday life. It's not something to fear. For example, what happened to five minutes ago, or to yesterday, last year or ten years ago? What happens to this instant? Where does it go? Could you even find the essence of this instant? Are you afraid of what's going to happen to right now? I'm defining death as impermanence. Look at photos of yourself from ten, or twenty years ago. What happened to the person that existed then?

What about aggression? Aggression sometimes bubbles up in me, like dark clouds. Grandmother used to complain about how the bile would back up into her face. At times, her talk became erratic and belligerent, so much bitterness and anger. Where does it come from? I thought about the aggression in me, and then thought of the Jim Thompson novel The Killer Inside Me, published in 1952. What is the origin of aggression? What is it all about?

Before jumping in with predictable ideas that we've all heard many times, take a look at the aggression in you. Sit up straight and look at it. That's what I'm doing. Look at the aggression, but don't act out. Practice non-aggression. Some of the "disturbing" images I create might be considered aggressive. They're actually an attempt to look at aggression, to try and see it for what it is and at the same time, to contemplate death, or rather, to contemplate life. What does it mean to be a physical, thinking being? What is this life all about?