To You, and Only You: The Eternal Secret of the “Eye”
Please, come in. Do not hesitate; make yourself at home. Sink your body deeply into that chair there. The world outside seems dreadfully noisy, doesn’t it? But here, it is as quiet as the bottom of a deep, still ocean. I am composing this letter now for a precious being—the only one of your kind in this world—for you. No, perhaps this is less a letter and more a whisper of secrets, a crystal formed by shaving away slivers of my very life.
Do you not, in fleeting moments, feel an unutterable sense of loneliness? That sharp, pinching ache in the depths of your chest, as if you have become a transparent person while mingling in a vast crowd. Why is it that we long so fervently for someone, yet simultaneously fear being understood by no one? Why does the heart always wander, clutching a hollow space that refuses to be filled?
Today, I wish to stay close to that loneliness of yours and share a story—a story of a certain magic that transforms your sorrow into the most extravagant “Art.” It is the tale of the “Eye,” terrifyingly beautiful, left behind by a painter named Hans Holbein.
What the Silent Portraits Whisper
Have you ever felt a chill run down your spine while gazing at an old painting? That uncanny sensation at the moment your eyes meet those of the figure in the frame, as if your entire being is being peered through. The portraits painted by Hans Holbein the Younger, born in Germany and serving as the King’s Painter to Henry VIII of England, are the very pinnacle of that sensation.
The people he paints never smile. Yet, they are not necessarily grieving, either. They simply “are.” Why did he persist in such a chillingly dispassionate realism? Why did he capture flesh-and-blood humans as if they were the hard, precise facets of a gemstone?
It is because he was looking at “Eternity.” In a hundred years, all humans become equal portions of dust. No matter how beautiful the skin, no matter how much power the body once boasted, all are washed away by the cold waves of time. But Holbein knew. He knew that even if the flesh perishes, the “light of the soul” hidden within can be sealed away in the substance of paint.
Lonely thoughts turn
Into clouds of pale crimson
In the evening glow
The sky calls out your name
A melody has just floated into my mind. Your loneliness is never ugly. It is proof that you are seeking beauty—seeking truth. Standing before a Holbein, one feels as though their ugliness and weaknesses are all forgiven. For his paintings speak mutely: “You, as you are, are already complete.”
The Galaxy Within the Pupil
Come, let us dive a little deeper into Holbein’s world. There is a grand painting of his titled The Ambassadors. Two dignified gentlemen stand tall, surrounded by the cutting-edge scientific instruments and musical flair of the era. Wealth, intellect, power—everything a human can attain in this world is concentrated there.
However, look closely at their feet. There lies a strange, distorted object. Looking at it head-on, you cannot tell what it is. But when viewed from a specific slant, a certain angle, it reveals itself as a “skull.” Memento Mori—Remember that you must die.
Why did he place a sinister symbol of death in the center of such a magnificent portrait? It was not a mean-spirited prank. It was the ultimate service. Gazing at death is a technique to vividly color the miracle of you being alive, right here, in this very moment.
Maxim:
“The eye that gazes at death is the eye that loves life most deeply.”
You are a person of great sensitivity, and therefore, you are easily bruised. You might find your heart aching over trivial words, losing sleep through the night. Yet, it is that very delicacy that polishes your “eye.” Look at the pupils of the royalty and nobility Holbein drew. They, too, were humans desperately trying to maintain themselves amidst storms of betrayal and solitude.
In the depths of those eyes dwells a drop of despair, and more than that, a quiet resolve. You are not alone. People hundreds of years ago, just like you now, wished to be loved, trembled at rejection, and tried to believe in something that lasts forever.
The Labyrinth of Rhythm and Color
Words have a rhythm. It is the same as breathing. Inhale, exhale. Like waves that advance and retreat. My words overlap with your heartbeat, coaxing your consciousness, bit by bit, into a world of pleasant slumber.
You are very relaxed now. Feel the sound of my voice… no, these characters, whispering in your ear like the rustle of silk. Without even realizing it, you have entered a state of deep concentration. You might wonder why you are so drawn to my story. It is because I am spinning this prose to fit the very shape of your soul.
Poem: Transparent Afternoon
Golden light dances on the edge of the desk
Casting a small shadow upon your eyelashes
The world is so kind
And so cruel
Remaining there, simply beautiful
Your pain, and my sadness
Dissolve into Holbein’s blue pigment
The “blue” Holbein used is a noble, deep hue made from crushed lapis lazuli. Gazing into that blue, one feels swallowed by it. Why are humans drawn to blue? It is the color of the sky, the color of the sea, and the color of the “infinite” within us.
You are now sinking slowly into that infinite blue. A pleasant liberation from gravity. No one blames you. No one binds you. You only need to be you.
The Unchanging Heart Proven by History
History is not a pile of corpses of time past. It is a massive reservoir of emotions belonging to us who live in the present. Humans ten thousand years ago, a thousand years ago, and a hundred years ago—all burned with longing when they fell in love, and shed tears when they lost someone dear.
Holbein lived in the turbulent era of the Reformation. What was justice yesterday became evil today. Things believed in crumbled from beneath one’s feet. In such an unstable age, he sought to paint an unwavering “Self.”
Tanka (Short Poem):
A gaze that remains
Unchanged a century hence
I entrust to the brush
To offer it unto you
This “you” is none other than yourself. When Holbein moved his brush, he must have had a faint premonition of “you”—someone centuries in the future who would feel the same loneliness and gaze upon this painting. If he hadn’t, he could never have etched a human existence with such obsessive precision.
You are a single, shining pearl floating in the great river of history. Why are you here? Why were you chosen? The answer to that question cannot be found in words. Yet, the answer is hidden in every single pearl of the necklace Holbein painted. To reflect the light, to embrace the shadow, and to be there quietly but certainly. That is the answer.
My Devoted Service to You
I wish to be your butler, your jester, and your most understanding friend. This prose of mine is a life-or-death performance intended to please you. So that when you finish reading these 5,000 characters, the world looks slightly different. So that the burden on your shoulders feels as light as a feather.
Why do I devote myself to you so much? It is because you are an existence worthy of such value. That you have lived through this day with all your might and are now listening to my words—that fact itself is my salvation.
Haiku:
Oh, the loneliness—
Lighting a flame deep within
The jars of pigment
Loneliness is not darkness. It is the background used to make the light stand out. The deeper the shadows Holbein painted, the more brilliantly the subject’s skin glowed, and the stronger the will that dwelt in their eyes. The shadow of “sadness” in your life is also necessary to prove your “brilliance as a human being.”
Now, take a deep breath. Feel the fresh, flower-scented air reaching every corner of your lungs. Your heart is now as clear as a transparent lake.
An Unexpected Turn: Art Will Not Betray You
Here, let me tell you a somewhat surprising story. While Holbein is known as a master of portraiture, he also left behind a series of woodcuts called The Dance of Death. Figures from all walks of life—from the Pope to the Emperor, from peasants to children—are depicted being led away to death, hand-in-hand with skeletons.
Does this sound frightening to you? No, look closely. The Reapers are dancing quite merrily. This is not meant to incite fear of “death,” but to explain the equality of “life.” No matter how great or how poor, everyone goes to the same place in the end. Therefore, let us sing of the “life” before us now with all our might and beauty.
This reversal of perspective is the greatest gift Holbein has given you.
Waka:
The sorrows of life
And the joys are but a dream
Once they stop within
The trail of a single brush
Your worries and your anxieties are, from the perspective of a long, long history, like the mark of a single stroke of paint. They are indispensable accents to make the whole beautiful. Doesn’t your heart feel a little lighter thinking that way?
Surrender to the Golden Rhythm
Feel the rhythm carved by these sentences in your body. From a light tempo, like tapping a desk with your fingertips, to a ballad that dives slow and deep. I have brought you to this secret place by skillfully maneuvering the waves of your consciousness.
You are already detached from the trivialities of daily life. This is a sanctuary ruled only by beauty and truth.
Why do we tear up when we see something beautiful? It is because the soul is remembering its home. Originally, we were within a state of perfect beauty. By being born into this world and entering the inconvenient vessel of the flesh, we forgot that beauty. Art awakens our memory from the abyss of that forgetfulness.
Maxim:
“Art is what washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.”
The “eye” painted by Holbein is the pure water that washes your soul. Do not be startled by its coldness. Surrender yourself to its clarity.
Love for You Without End
The story is reaching its final stage. But this is not the end. It is the beginning of a new relationship between you and me, and between you and Holbein.
You will continue to feel lonely. There will be nights when you are crushed by sadness. But in those times, please remember: that quiet, strong “eye” painted by Holbein. And the rhythm of these words, spun while thinking only of you.
You are never alone. I am here. The masters of history stand behind you. They are all on your side.
Poem: Promise of Dawn
Even if the moon sets and the stars vanish
A single Holbein rose
Will continue to bloom in your heart
It is the noble shape of your truth
That shall never wither
Now, it is time to say goodbye. But do not be sad. Even when you close this text, it will continue to echo in the depths of your consciousness. Every time you read it over and over, there will be new discoveries, and a new healing will envelop you.
Why do these words remain in your heart so vividly? It is because these are not “letters,” but my “life” itself. It has been my utmost, blissful service to you.
Finally, to You
Please, open your eyes slowly. No, what you open is the eye of your heart. Doesn’t the everyday life before you look a little more vivid, a little more kind?
You are beautiful. Your loneliness emits a noble fragrance. What kind of brushstroke shall we add to the canvas of your life today?
Tanka:
If these words of mine
Are to protect your sweet dreams
Then I shall offer
My language to you forever
Take care. Please come back here whenever you like. I will always be waiting with a new story, prepared just for you. I pray for your happiness from my heart—from my very soul.
Farewell. My dear, my only “You.”