Lions, passion and life: Desert animals in Venice

It wasn't just a sunny day in Venice;

It was an odyssey through the Biennale, peppered with art, coffee and an unspoken longing for the sublime. As I made my way through the winding alleyways, I realized that this was no ordinary art exhibition. Rather, the Biennale was a vast playground for ideas, utopias, analyses and spaces of experience. On this trip, however, my goal was clearly defined: I wanted to experience Walton Ford's legendary painting "An Apparition". The lion in this painting was not just an animal; it was a symbol of everything that makes life worth living. Strength, passion and the unstoppable search for meaning in an often enigmatic world - it embodies all of this.

I myself also have a fascination for lion tattoos. Who doesn't want to look like a proud lion roaming the savannah when they're actually just strolling through the urban jungle in search of the nearest coffee shop? In a way, such tattoos allow us to show our wild instincts - similar to the lion roaring in the steppe.

"An Apparition"

When I entered the room where "An Apparition" was hanging, I immediately felt its presence. The majestic lion seemed to step out of the canvas, its eyes literally piercing me, challenging me to find my own place in the universe, to recognize my own destiny. The lion was carrying, or rather dragging, a lot of books. All the knowledge with which we try to describe the world. Homer and his epics came to mind. An eternal desert of words and sentences. People will always do that: Write books. We have always been fascinated by the infinity of the sky: Stars everywhere, galaxies upon galaxies. Nevertheless, people have never stopped describing the sky and writing books about what it could - and at some point "must" - look like there and in the world in general. Yes, books bring order, but when order becomes too heavy, when too many rules and laws are laid down, they become a burden.

At some point, the words of others become too much. And you have to free yourself to find your own words, to write your own book. To become a lion. These are my thoughts.

"A Voice"

A voice behind me broke the silence. A voice imbued with deep wisdom and a touch of irony. It was Walton Ford himself, the man behind the masterpiece, asking with a mischievous smile on his lips if I liked what I was seeing. "It's fascinating," I replied, but I sensed that there was more to discover.

We talked about Nietzsche and his ideas of power and eternity, about the nature of life and the endless search for meaning. I remembered Nietzsche's concept of the "three transformations": From the camel carrying burdens and following rules, to the lion rebelling against these rules and searching for its own truth, and finally to the child playfully and freely recreating life. This interpretation permeated our discussion and colored our view of "An Apparition" with new facets.

But it wasn't just the philosophical depth of the painting that captivated me. As a writer for our tattoo magazine Anansi, I am always on the lookout for new inspiration. The lion metaphor that Ford embodied in his work was exactly what I was looking for. A symbol of strength, courage and the unstoppable quest for self-realization.

(Tattoo by Tattoo Anansi, Zouzou)

As I left the exhibition hall and made my way home, I realized that these pictures had made a big impression on me. They inspire me to keep searching for the hidden treasures of life, for that spark that drives us all to find our own lions and tame them with passion and dedication. I have a tattoo of a lion to remind me of this experience. The narrow streets snaked through the city like an intricate thread, and around every corner I came across lion statues and lion paintings. It was a strange feeling that came over me as I wandered through the endless alleyways. The Aperol Spritz had dulled my senses and suddenly it felt like I was caught in a vortex of hallucinations. Sublime lion statues were enthroned on the roofs of the palaces, while lion heads looked down from the walls of the houses. Even the canals seemed to change, as if they were taking on the form of majestic lions lurking in the darkness. It was a surreal experience that reminded me of the movie "When the Gondolas Carry Mourning", in which the boundaries between dream and reality blur and the city itself becomes a living organism. I owe it all to the lion, which sometimes appears in a picture, sometimes in a tattoo and speaks to me. But if a real flesh-and-blood lion came around the corner, I would run for my life.

(Text: Julian Bachmann / Graphic: Jonas Bachmann; by studio-marco.com)