Brushstrokes Of Anger
Standing in the humble confines of Jeremy’s studio, every art piece stood as a precious memento of a man’s dream; at this point, our art exhibition was on the brink of becoming a reality. You see, this year, I had met Jeremy—an artist whose exceptional works speak profoundly to the human experience, though unfortunately, they have yet to gather the acclaim they truly deserve. Inspired by his talent, I committed to partnering with him to bring his vision to a wider audience through an art exhibition.
Convincing Jeremy to step into the spotlight was no small feat, given his introverted nature. “Nobody would ever want to see it..they’re not that great”, he often doubted. Yet, he placed a tremendous amount of faith in me, trusting my encouragement as a light for his uncertain journey. “Jeremy seriously, this is incredible and people are going to love it! Believe in yourself!” I shared with a firm appreciation in the depth and beauty of his art. Eventually, the initial hesitation gave way to a fragile confidence in this endeavour. We turned to Daniel, a friend of mine who owned a venue that seemed perfect for bringing our passion project to life. He truly gave life to this idea.
“Heck yes,” Daniel had said the day we approached him, his enthusiasm echoing like a warm breeze. “I’m excited to offer you the space. Next month is going to be perfect. Let’s make some magic happen.” His words lit a spark in our hearts, especially Jeremy’s, his promise meant so much more as it became for the first time, ground for Jeremy’s dreams to stand on.
Jeremy and I worked tirelessly in over a few weeks, flowing through preparations with excitement and joy. Yet weeks later, I received an abrupt call from Daniel that shattered everything. His tone now felt cold and harsh.
“I’m really sorry,” he said, “I have to back out. There’s just… stuff happening right now. I can’t commit to the space to you.” With those words, the ground turned to quicksand, dragging down not just logistics but dreams and trust as well. And just like that, promises became echoes in the wind.
As a former barrister, my instincts kicked in fast, wrapped in a fiery cloak woven from training and righteousness. Anger surged through me like an uncontainable wildfire, fierce and consuming. It was a searing flame of betrayal and injustice that flickered in every thought. All the hours that we had spent working on this. All the trust I had placed in this person that I called, my friend, now completely destroyed in such a selfish manner. The disappointment and anguish washed over me like a relentless tide, yet the true heartache came in conveying this unfortunate news to Jeremy. His eyes clouded with a quiet resignation, as he softly said, “It’s okay—maybe my work is just not good enough..” His words, laced with deflation, echoed a sense of surrender and reminded me of the vulnerability that accompanies dreams placed in uncertain hands. The defeat in his tone struck a chord deep within me, reinforcing the anger I felt.
My mind raced with a tumult of emotions—a feeling of being blindsided, abandoned in the eleventh hour. My thoughts intermingled with the desire for vindication. He cannot get away with his. The unfairness burned within me, it actually burnt, its heat was relentless and fierce. I felt betrayed, not just for myself, but most importantly, for Jeremy. My thoughts consumed.
Determined to seek vindication after days of hatred, I set up a dinner with Daniel. I was going to confront him and seek some form of vengeance.
When Daniel arrived at dinner, he seemed different—weighted by something more than mere obligation. His eyes met mine with an honesty that pierced through the fog of my fury. “You know…I meant it when I said you could have the space,” Daniel sighed, wearing vulnerability openly. “But.. I don’t know if I should tell you this…there are somethings that happened recently to me…and I lost the business. I am no longer involved.”
He continued, unraveling a saddening tale of personal crisis. “I didn’t want it to end like this…I imagined so much that I wanted to do with that space…but I just became this big letdown to myself…I feel like such a loser..” he said, his voice tinged with regret. I realised his situation wasn’t just professional—it was profoundly personal.
Slowly, the anger that had once consumed me began to transform. Daniel’s openness softened my hardened heart. I realised that beneath my righteous indignation was a human story which he told painstakingly—complex, uncertain, but deeply relatable.
“Daniel, I didn’t know, I’m so sorry…” I confessed, the edge of my voice surrendering to empathy.
As I left dinner that night, I started reflecting—life’s moments are almost as unpredictable as Jeremy’s brushwork on canvas. They come and go, each carrying its own lesson, wrapped in the fragile fabric of time. My anger, once a roaring flame, threatened to destroy not just relationships, but dreams and possibilities that could still unfold. Time moves, and time passes, but the impact of anger, left unchecked, can carve scars deeper than any fleeting disappointment.
Through that conversation, I learned that unchecked fury isn’t just a fleeting emotion—it’s a consuming force that narrows perspective. It promises strength and righteousness, but in truth, it’s really a self-inflicted wound—an ouroboros devouring itself, leaving nothing but unrest. I also realised that for someone like Jeremy, who looked up to me for guidance and often mirrored his emotions with mine, displaying anger was not the path to take. Instead, I needed to be a beacon of strength, positivity, hope and encouragement, reminding him that life is brimming with setbacks, but they do not define us. I should endeavour to show him that we must rise above these challenges, for anger is not the way forward but the way backward. By embodying resilience and optimism, I hope to inspire Jeremy to see setbacks as stepping stones on the journey toward achieving our dreams.
Reflecting on the experience, I understood that anger has a deceptive power—promising retribution but delivering only ruin. Its destruction can linger, a shadow over the heart, darkening every possibility, destroying our very humanity. In the end, anger destroys us, perhaps this why Friedrich Nietzsche lamented that: “when you gaze into the abyss long enough, the abyss also gazes back into you.”
