The young man had lived for a while in the district of reliably cheap doss houses of the empire’s most illustrious capital city. A place unlike the regimented villages of small farming communities that he had left to freely ply his trade as a would be artist in hopes of finding his real self. The sixth largest metropolis contained that viable ‘sperm in the air‘ suggested by its admirer’ of the time that was expected from the intellectual collisions that birthed new points of view. The new century was upon them all! Merely a few years off and potent with unexpected promise of all manner of yet to be explored possibilities. New ideas for the coming century freely voiced in its many coffeehouses as to how the old world of Europe might be refashioned into a more democratic Utopia. The shared desire to find one’s true roots of every man lurking beneath long crushed under the strict conventions imposed by a legacy of centralized governance by divine right of autocracies over a multiracial multinational empire. The inner desire of this ambitious ‘nobody‘ to discover something new and inspiring behind the facade of endless conventionality barely containing an archetype of the unconscious. To his mind being locked into the poverty of living day to day, moment to moment it was a quest to uncover something missing. A tract of things both logical and ultimately positive and forward thinking in outlook.
A method to escape from the shameful myths of past family scandal of genetic continuity interrupted by a forerunner’s frailty in allowing themselves to falling prey to the dangers of dubious parentage. That same old corrupting influence of tribal imperative lurking in the ghetto of a clan dedicated to despoiling the progression and advancement of all others. Fostering only their own narrow self-serving narrow interests by ferreting out the achievements of others and shamelessly plagiarize them as their only to their own. The unconscious desire to prove to himself that this unwanted family inheritance would have no power over his more noble inclinations. This self-proclaimed artist by trade cast out of the legitimatized sphere of bourgeois prosperity for the celebration of his own imagination. He found himself seeking alternate avenues of vision to refashion his sense of self amidst the wide boulevards and squares so grossly overpopulated by the decadent Baroque decor of the grand palaces and residences so characteristic of this city. The Gnosis eventually happened upon accidentally in the form of a spiritual awakening from the East. One that was facilitated by those who had dedicated themselves to spreading the deeper levels of knowledge of far Eastern Vedic traditions through an interest in Theosophy fueled by the mythic inspiration of Wagner. Their advocates translating them into Europeans tongues familiar to the ear of more cosmopolitan listeners.
This young man’s passion for self-discovery at the cost of conventionality sometimes leading to fractious encounters with other young men of dubious character. Some of which who sought others out only in terms of potential fast conduits to rapid material gain. These devious companions ready to turn anyone else into the local authorities for the merest appearance of civil transgression and a few gold gulden’s. All for the possibility of some measure of incremental gain. Like sharks they patrolled the same districts preying on the naiveté on those of a more altruistic sensibility. It was understandable that a few encounters with these types would harden the young artist’s heart to any who would seek to take advantage of others. For though he traveled the cobblestones of the city he still kept an appreciation for the basic wholesomeness of the people from its hinterlands. A vision of unity among all the extended populations that had only been strung together over the last fifty years sharing the same birthright of a common language and tradition. The world as he saw it would one day in the not to distant future see those of his own kind as forerunners of a forward thinking ideal of what man could be in the most positive sense. How terrible, he thought that humanity as a whole seemed to fall prey to the perennial class of ever incorrigible irredeemable parasites that favored caste over the dignity of simple honest hard working folks.
This strange continuity in universalism of the East held many ancient symbols that spoke of a longstanding continuity of mankind over countless millennia that were referred to as ‘yugas’. Vast accumulations of anonymous generations that recycled themselves and mystically expressed themselves in age old symbols found enigmatically worldwide. One in particular seemed to sum up this young artist’s hopeful sentiments for the future of the world. A glyph that in reflection he considered a fit graphic portrayal for expressing the positive state of being for what in his conception of this Utopia as he imagined it. Something so foreign yet so familiar. Striking in its effect to those of the West that viewed it but that stayed fresh in the memory. A seed and a kernel that would grow in the consciousness of all like-minded individuals to build a society that would free itself from all the evils of the past by suggesting a new avenue to a more rational future. The Eastern appreciation of the eternal Vishnu generating future worlds. A life giving sun to the aspirations of man. This unknown artist pledged silently to himself upon these lonely unpromising streets that one day he would find a way to spread this life altering symbol throughout the world for all to appreciate and admire. The swastika would fly free and proudly across the world as a symbol of the best that he and his kind could offer.