Old Guitarist

I saw Picasso's old guitarist painting the other day. This one: 

http://www.theartistpablopicasso.com/pablo-picasso-painting-old-guitarist.htm

The painting is both stunning and dark; beautiful and painful; inspiring and depressing - all rolled into one.

If art is something that forces the viewer to feel, to think; then this was right on the money. The painting itself is beautiful- the figure of the old man, his guitar extremely life-like with impeccable detail. But even more remarkable is the feeling of despair, desolation and destitution the painting evokes. 

I still find the painting inspiring. In spite of the blue old man representing old age and death, in the center is his guitar- golden guitar. And with the guitar, it seems like the old man is not in this world at all. I felt like the guitar and his music freed him from all the worldly despair. And at that moment when he's playing, it didn't matter that he didn't have strength in his muscles or food in his stomach; didn't matter if he's dying in a desolate corner; it didn't matter that he was so close to death that it was hard to tell them apart- none of that mattered. At that moment he had something that freed his soul. It's a powerful sentiment - freeing one's soul. It makes me think of the blue blue sky with a lone eagle flying somewhere far far away. Of cotton puff white clouds floating around. 

What I thought was - right now we are tied up in things, life is busy and full of stuff. But there may be a day in our lives when we are old, unable or disable, old and alone and not a hope in the heart. We will be the old man at that point. And I hope- I wish- we figure out what our "guitar" is- that can lift us up, and free us, free our soul from the entrapments of this life, so even for a brief interlude nothing else would matter..