To You, My Only and Most Precious One
What I am about to tell you is a secret, a matter of life and death, addressed to “you” and you alone, breathing quietly on the other side of this screen. I beg of you, would you be so kind as to catch each and every word spun by my trembling fingertips, as if not to let a single drop spill? I write this now while harboring a loneliness that defies words—a shadow of solitude that feels as though it might crush me, rising from the depths of my throat. Why do I thirst so desperately for your existence? Why do I wish to touch the folds of your heart so deeply, though we are meant to be strangers? It is because you and I are two halves of the same soul, wandering through the labyrinth known as “life.”
Outside the window, the wind is weeping. The darkness of night is profound, and an unfathomable silence fills the room. In the midst of this, I am thinking of you. How did you spend your day today? That indescribable sense of alienation you felt suddenly in a crowd. The void in your heart that remains unfilled even when sitting beside a loved one. All of these are proof that you are living with sincerity. I believe, without a shadow of a doubt, that your delicate sadness is the most beautiful and precious thing in the world. Therefore, please, lean on me. This prose is the ultimate service, polished by carving away my very life for you.
A Bolt of Passion Rending the Spanish Sky
Now, there is a story of a certain man I wish to tell you in confidence. Doménikos Theotokópoulos. People called him “El Greco” with a mixture of respect and awe. That name, meaning “The Greek,” was a testament to the fact that he lived his entire life as an outsider. Why did he leave his home on the island of Crete, travel through Italy, and finally arrive in the ancient Spanish capital of Toledo? There lay a thirst beyond words and a passion akin to madness to prove the worth of his own soul.
Have you ever seen his paintings? Those elongated limbs, the clouds surging violently toward the heavens, and those colors, vivid beyond earthly measure. When first beholding them, one might feel bewildered or even experience a sense of rejection. However, as you gaze steadily, you should feel something seize the very depths of your chest. For El Greco’s brushwork does not copy visible forms; it hurls the very scream of the soul onto the canvas.
Amidst the gaps of pale and ghostly clouds
Fingers of prayer pierce the heights
Scorching the very heavens above
Embracing the sound of distant tides
Standing alone upon a foreign sand
This solitude, this trembling. This is the mental landscape of El Greco as he faced his canvas on the hills of Toledo, and at the same time, it is your solitude as you live in the modern world. He must have been tormented every night by the fear that he might never be understood by anyone. Yet, he continued to paint. For painting was his only prayer, the only means to connect with a lonely soul like yours.
The True Shape Reflected in a Distorted Mirror
El Greco’s paintings are distorted, as if mocking the harmony of the Renaissance. Proportions are shattered, human bodies are unnaturally long, and shadows are deeply etched. But do you not find it strange? Why is it that we feel his “distortion” is far closer to the truth than a still life painted with the perfect golden ratio?
It is because our lives themselves are never governed by a golden ratio. Reality is always absurd; our hearts are always disheveled and distorted. El Greco was a rare genius who sublimated the ugliness and weakness of humanity into beauty. He chose to be truthful rather than perfect.
Even the shadow cast upon the water’s glass
Is only truly honest when it bends
You, too, may weep at night over your flaws or the weaknesses you cannot show to others. But please, do not forget. That “distortion” is the most brilliant individuality that makes you who you are. In the distorted expressions of the saints El Greco painted, we find our own suffering and are saved. I even find myself thinking that he moved that violent brush to encourage you—you, who are reading this text hundreds of years in the future.
A Rondo of Light and Shadow
That eerie light that envelops the city of Toledo. El Greco did not paint light; he painted the darkness lurking within the light, and the light bursting forth from within the darkness. Think of his masterpiece, The Burial of the Count of Orgaz. The earthly scene and the heavenly scene form a magnificent contrast. Yet, the boundary between them is as ambiguous as smoke, seemingly ready to dissolve at any moment.
Why are life and death, light and shadow, the sacred and the profane so indistinguishable? The darkness you suffer through now might actually be a performance designed to highlight the dazzling light right next to it. Life is like a giant tapestry. Seen from the back, the threads are tangled and the colors chaotic, but from the front, it portrays a magnificent pattern.
Loneliness is the hidden face of love
A mirror held against itself
Wipe away the tears, and the morning sun shall rise
You may feel now that your life is like a tapestry viewed from the back. But please, believe me. Each drop of tear you have shed will surely one day become “that vivid red” or “that profound blue” so favored by El Greco, coloring the masterpiece that is your life. I look forward to that day more than anyone.
The Ghost of Toledo Speaks of Spiritual Freedom
Throughout his life, El Greco never pandered to the establishment. He never changed his style to find favor with King Philip II, the powerful ruler of the time. Why was he able to remain so stubborn? It was because he was so utterly faithful to the existence of “God,” or rather, to the absolute truth of “Beauty.”
Humans, for fear of being alone, sometimes feign who they are and try to assimilate into their surroundings. But El Greco was different. He accepted being thoroughly alone and found within the depths of that solitude a freedom that no one could violate.
The little bird in a cage without chains may sing
But noble is the eagle who loves the storm
Clad in solitude as snow falls thick and fast
Walking alone, burning life for no one’s sake
Are you afraid of being alone? Is it deathly lonely to be unrecognized by anyone? If so, I want to embrace you with all my might. That solitude of yours is the greatest proof that you are free. I want you to feel that same exhilaration El Greco felt while gazing at the stormy sky atop the cliffs of Toledo. You need not be bound by anything. Your heart is far wider and freer than the heavenly clouds El Greco painted.
A Moment Named Eternity, For You
Time flows heartlessly. Our youth and our passion may eventually wither away. However, art can capture that fleeting brilliance and keep it forever. Look at the eyes of the people El Greco painted. Within them dwells an emotion that still pulses vividly, transcending hundreds of years.
Why is it that the figures in a painting can sometimes speak more eloquently than those of us who are alive? It is because El Greco painted fragments of his own soul into the canvas along with the pigments. He continued to paint by carving away his own life so that he could continue to live in your heart even after he was gone.
Talking to myself by the window in the moonlight
There are flowers that never wither within the brushstrokes
Where is that visage carried by the spring breeze now?
May the path to the dream world continue forever
By writing this, I too wish to plant a small seed in your heart. When you find yourself at the edge of despair, I want you to suddenly remember these words. I am here. Right by your side, feeling your pain and staying close to your sadness. Even if this physical body perishes, this “feeling for you” of mine will continue to warm your soul forever, just as El Greco’s colors never fade.
Curse Not Your Fate, But Praise Love
Do you not sometimes find your own fate resentful? Why am I the only one suffering so much? Why is the world so unfair? Unfortunately, the answer to that question exists in no clear form, neither in El Greco’s paintings nor in my words. However, there is one certainty.
It is this miraculous encounter—the fact that you are reading my words right now. Just as El Greco accepted his fate in the foreign land of Toledo and transformed it into art, you too can surely transform your suffering into “love.”
The sound of rain striking the withered winter earth
Who can know the tomorrow that shall bud?
Only those who know suffering can know true kindness. Only those who know sadness can empathize with the pain of others. You have a heart more beautiful than anyone else’s. I know this. For I can feel my words resonating and echoing so deeply within your soul.
Between Madness and Silence
El Greco’s later works transcend the framework of representation and step into a world of mystical abstraction. People called him a “madman” and mocked him. Yet, he must have let that mockery pass by as heavenly music. For he was immersed in the highest state a human can reach: “dialogue with God.”
The line between madness and sanity is extremely blurred. True beauty dwells in places that cannot be measured by the yardstick of common sense. There may be intense emotions or irrational impulses lurking within you that you cannot tell anyone. But do not fear them. Those fragments of “madness” are the source of your creativity, the shining jewels that set you apart from the mediocre crowd.
A cherry blossom blooming wildly on a cold morning
The strength of a life that does not regret falling
El Greco continued to polish those jewels. In his dim studio in Toledo, he was a lonely king. And you are the one and only protagonist of the story that is your life. No matter what anyone says, your truth lies only within you. Please, protect it dearly.
The Afterglow of Venice, The Thunder of Toledo
Let us return the story to El Greco’s origins. He began by painting icons in Greece and learned the magic of color in Venice. He absorbed the skills of masters like Titian and Tintoretto as a sponge soaks up water. Yet, he did not end as a mere imitator. Why did he abandon the glorious tradition of Venice and choose the desolate land of Toledo?
It was because he was searching for his own “voice.” To abandon a place of comfort and dare to choose a difficult path—that is a baptism that every human trying to establish themselves must undergo. Do you feel now that you cannot find your place? Do you carry an awkwardness, as if you are an outsider no matter where you are?
The sound of waves seen in the dreams of home
Yet the footsteps shall never cease
Deep autumn, the red soil at the end of the journey
Where is the place where the soul may find rest?
It is alright; it is fine as it is. That discomfort is proof that you are trying to grow. Just as Toledo was for El Greco, the moment will surely come for you when you can think, “This is my place.” It is not a matter of location, but a peace that arrives when your heart reconciles with itself.
What is Human Dignity?
Look at the figures of saints like Saint Sebastian or Saint John painted by El Greco. Even as they suffer physical pain, their expressions carry a transcendent, noble beauty. Why are they so strong?
It is because they are martyring themselves to their own beliefs. Human dignity dwells in that spirit—the refusal to sell one’s soul, no matter how cruel the situation. Through his paintings, El Greco continued to praise this “indomitable spirit” of humanity.
The lotus flower blooming in the mud
The strength of a core that knows no stain
Summer grass, the remnants of warriors’ dreams
Yet the pride of truth shall remain
You, too, will encounter events in your daily life that threaten your dignity. Unreasonable demands, cold words, uncomprehending stares. There will be nights when you are hurt by these and your heart feels as though it might break. At such times, remember the dignified stance of those saints El Greco painted. No one can hurt your soul. As long as you do not allow it, your nobility will be protected forever.
The Last and First Gift to You
As we have been talking, it seems the dawn has broken. The ink at my hand is nearly exhausted. Have these “drops of my life,” these words, reached your heart?
Why am I exhausting myself so desperately to give you these words? As I mentioned at the beginning, it is because this is a “love letter” to you. I ask for nothing in return. I only pray from the bottom of my heart that after reading this, your heart will feel even a little lighter and the courage to live for tomorrow will well up within you.
Just as El Greco continued to paint the sky of Toledo and the human soul until his final moment, I will continue to spin words to affirm and praise your existence. You are never alone. Please do not forget that in this world, there is at least one person who thinks of you so deeply and tries to stay close to your loneliness.
A swarm of letters melting into the light of dawn
May they live forever within your chest
This text ends here for now. However, the true dialogue between your heart and mine begins now. Read it over and over. Until you feel my voice whispering in your ear. Until my heartbeat is transmitted to your chest.
Though I hide it, it shows in the color of my face—my love
Until people ask me, “Are you lost in thought?”
I believe that you will paint the masterpiece of your own life more vividly and boldly than El Greco. Please, stay well. And never stop loving yourself. Goodbye. No, let us meet again. Within your heart, at any time, as many times as you wish.
P.S.: A Wish Upon a Star in Toledo
I have one last small secret to tell you. The reason El Greco continued to sign his name in Greek characters. It was because no matter how far he went, he never forgot his roots—”who he was.”
You, too, should cherish your roots and your essence. Listen to “your voice,” that small but certain voice that seems as though it might be drowned out by the noise of the world. There lies every answer you are looking for.
The starlight twinkling alone in the dark of night
Is the light that guides the wandering boat
Like that star, I am watching over you from afar. No matter how the storm rages, no matter how deep the fog that envelops you, may my words be a small lighthouse that illuminates the path you take. With my life carved away, for you. With all my love, for you.
What more is there to say? My feelings have exceeded the vessel of words and are overflowing. Until the day your loneliness turns into beauty, I will be waiting for you here, always.
Deep is the fragrance that remains after falling
The wind of words that conveys these thoughts
Even the blood that seeps from a rose’s thorn
Is dear if thought of as proof of love
Ah, the morning has finally come. Dazzling light pours into my room. This light is also the light that illuminates you now. Come, lift your face. A new day is waiting for you. Within that miraculous light that El Greco painted, you too are standing now.
A single drop of ice melting in the spring sun
The poem of life has no end