End of Black Drung

End of Black Drung, o/p, 24" x 30", Steven Rhude


"How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnished, not to shine in use!
As though to breath were life! Life piled on life."

 Alfred Lord Tennyson - Ulysses[1]
Last summer I followed a narrow lane (Newfoundland - drung) in Petty Harbour, and upon reaching the very end of it, felt it scroll open to the sea. There I encountered two houses and a fish box; three boxes really. The rurality of the place conveyed a sense of restlessness to me; the fishermen like Ulysses, feeling uncomfortable with their circumstances.

 [1,] According to Dante, after Ulysses had returned home to Ithaca and had settled down to rule his island kingdom, he became restless and desired to set out on another voyage of exploration to the west. In old age he persuaded a band of his followers to accompany him on such a voyage.

For the Greeks, the idea of sailing beyond the sunset, was based on their understanding of cosmology - the earth being a flat circle, and the outer ocean a repository for descending stars. Perhaps our perception of place now is so defined by what is contemporary (something forever changing), that we neglect to see the unequaled law establishing itself, and the consequences of reward and punishment - the supremacy of GDP over social capital and the community.

Steven Rhude, Wolfville, NS      

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