Lucian

The image of the tortured artist collapsing under the weight of their own genius is an enduring stereotype that has a strong basis in reality. Everybody knows how Van Gogh cut off his ear, how Hemingway shot himself or how Janis Joplin overdosed on drugs. Certainly less well known is the fate of one of our local artisans; Patient 249126-E.

In a previous life he was known as Lucian Van Der Geiste and, like many who come to live in the Hexagon, he was a thoroughly abhorrent man. Unlike many who come to live in the Hexagon, Lucian’s loathsome nature stemmed, not from his psychoses, but the detestable aura of smugness that permeated his every action.

Lucian was an artist, you see, and he was so proud of his abilities that he was very quick to correct anyone who would suggest otherwise. “Any buffoon can push paint around a board,” he would say, “but it takes a genius like moi to create art.”

You may think that Lucian’s arrogance was an unwarranted front, nothing but a means of distracting people from his work or generating notoriety. You would be wrong. For all his bravado Lucian was a very talented painter and he made a living selling his works to tourists who enjoyed the quaint, rustic charm of the little artist from port nowhere.

While Lucian’s talent was without question, his range left a lot to be desired. In fact, every one of the hundred and twenty-five paintings he produced was a variation on a single theme; the view from one of the many windows of the Van Der Geiste house, punctuated by a cat sitting on the windowsill and surveying the scene.

The vigilant cat was Lucian’s pet; a small, muddy-red tabby named Sol. The name was derived from King Solomon, the Israeli monarch from the Bible. A biblical name was a curious choice since Lucian was an atheist, claiming he was far too intelligent to put stock in such childish fairy stories. Regardless, the cats name was Solomon and he could always be found in Lucian’s house, keeping watch over any potential misdeeds.

Lucian’s downfall came at the hands of a local gang of toughs. The youths had grown tired of Van Der Geiste’s bragging and conspired to ruin his latest work by kidnapping Solomon and holding him for a hefty ransom.

The plan was executed flawlessly. One youth interrupted Lucian’s evening constitutional and held him up with mindless flattery while two accomplices broke into the Van Der Geiste house and stole Solomon away in a hessian sack. It was the perfect crime.

There was, however, one small hitch; Van Der Geiste did not mourn the loss of his cat. He did not call the police, he did not read the ransom note and he made no attempt to contact the kidnappers to negotiate Sol’s return. Rather, Lucian entered his workshop, stood at his easel and drank a half measure of absinthe before proceeding to gouge his eyes out with a size six flat brush.

Having successfully blinded himself Lucian turned his attentions back to his one true love: painting. He cast his current, half-finished canvas aside and began anew, working with a steely determination the likes of which he had never felt before. In fact, Van Der Geiste’s new found resolve was so great that he did not stop painting until he was discovered by his sister almost a week later.

Upon making the gruesome discovery, Ms. Van Der Geiste pried her brother away from the canvas and had him rushed to the hospital for treatment. It was not long before the doctors decided the artist was beyond help and shipped their latest problem off to the Hexagon.

Patient 249126-E’s psychosis was particularly interesting, because it appears to have come from absolutely nowhere. Losing a pet can be upsetting, yes, but not to the point of self enucleation. Further, an examination of the Van Der Geiste family history revealed no other instances of mental instability. This lack of clues, coupled with an unprecedented level of apathy, meant that the prodigious artist’s plight was never adequately explained. To that end, it is a shame that nobody took the time to examine Lucian’s final picture.

Although the handiwork is quite shaky and messy, understandable given the artists newfound handicap, the painting is another variation on the standard Van Der Geiste theme. In this instance, “Untitled #126” depicts the view through the windows of Lucian’s workshop. However, where there should be cat sitting on the windowsill and intently staring out, the painting shows the demon that had been sitting on the window ledge, intently staring in.