Sisyphus' punishment was to roll a big boulder up a hill only for it to roll down every time it neared the top. He had to repeat this action for eternity.
Stupid? Boring? Senseless?
Imagine that the hill is Cezanne's Mont Sainte-Victoire, France. A hill that never was and never will be the same.
Those two combined result in a colorful task that will be different every single day. Every single hour. To feed our kids. To raise them. To set them free. For eternity? Nope, until the last day of our lives when our senses stop getting input. That day when our physical body disintegrates into tiny little elements and will be reabsorbed into mother Earth.
We must consider Sisyphus as someone who embraced life and is happy.
P.S. I wrote about Cezanne before in blogpost 'Frozen?' (7-2010). In a way I write always the same stuff a la Mont Sainte-Victoire.
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