I am Saturn. I am scared.

Review of the collection of Francisco de Goya paintings at the Museo Nacional del Prado in Madrid.

Goya makes me afraid. 

But I’m not scared of the paintings. I am not frightened of them. 

It is a painting of my fear. (Fears I don’t particularly have, but feel nonetheless) It makes me vulnerable. It holds a mirror to my face reflecting what is behind my eyes. 

It pokes and prods at the depths of the darkest parts of my heart. 

And not just my heart. But Spain’s heart. Humanity’s heart. 

They are scary and obscure and absurdly ugly. But I can’t look away because it is of myself. 

My Fear.

My Shame.

My Hopelessness. 

I am Saturn. 

I am the Drowning Dog. 

I am the Ugly Men eating. 

Stand and look into Saturn’s eyes. You will see beyond the monster eating his child. You see the fear in his eyes. The terror that his power will be taken from him. He is desperate and manic. He is scared. 

Stand and look into the dog’s eyes. Do you feel yourself standing taller? Trying to keep your mouth above the rising waters of the painting? Your shoes are on the ground but your feet can’t quite reach. 

Stand and look at the Ugly Men Eating. You can’t help but stare, but hope they don’t catch you looking. You fix your posture. Just in case someone is watching.