The Square and Compasses (or, more correctly, a square and a set of compasses joined) is the single most identifiable symbol of Freemasonry. Both the square and compasses are architect’s tools and are used in Masonic ritual as emblems to teach symbolic lessons.

Some Lodges and rituals explain these symbols as lessons in conduct: for example, Duncan’s Masonic Monitor of 1866 explains them as: “The square, to square our actions; The compasses, to circumscribe and keep us within bounds with all mankind”.

While I am a Freemason (former Master of Mississippi Lodge No. 147, Grand Lodge of Ontario) the business lately of squaring my actions was not a moral undertaking but rather something closely resembling domestic housekeeeping. My current personal agenda is far from either complicated or particularly intriguing. Yet I have set a number of key points which succeed to preoccupy my time and attention. First, these deliberations surround an understandable physical decomposition arising from ineluctable aging; and, second, the less definable evolution related to objective reality (that is, things). Third, and somewhere within each of these boundaries – shall we say between the physical and the artistic – is that incontrovertible internal element invoked by one’s residence.

To be clear about the latter, we’re having to address the vagaries and necessities attending a move. Moving is a matter which has fluttered in the corners and throughout the distant views for some time – specifically since the moment we substituted fee simple for vassal. Basically we knew it was coming.  At last we have concluded an arrangement with our landlord which meets the objectives of us both; viz., he to liquidate; we to substantiate. Having now aligned ourselves with a corporate landlord we have dissolved the former gauze of implacability. In short, having now a contract with perpetual existence nicely removes us from the endurance of unsustainability.  Obviously the characterization of anything as perpetual is open to possible limitation; but within the overall ornamentation of legal obligation the identity is not entirely worthless. We are content.

Dealing with the personal physical limitations wrought by age is by contrast less easily contrived. Nature’s finery is far less capable of manipulation. To my present perspective the greater struggle is to expedite the provincial health care system. I have however begun by with a hopeful referral from my GP to a specialist regarding my as yet undiscovered source of aggravations.

And this brings me at last to the arena of stuff, what for me is more evocative than dormancy or logic. Mine is not an entirely visceral or cerebral reality. Of these three features to which I have attached myself, how I live (physical) and where I live (residential), the third – things – is the artistic hallmark.

I have always had a native admiration of the artist no matter the medium. My preference however insinuates the tangible. Over the past six months I have aroused an alteration of my rudimentary things. There was a delay in manifestation of the change because of our winter absence from the country. Yet within days of our return to Canada from Hilton Head Island, SC the more precise plans had been formulated with the chosen artist whose celebrity and renown I know for a fact straddle his father’s ancestry.

Today I spoke with the artist who is fabricating the item of central concern. What is relevent to the conversation is that he was himself lately hindered by the dreaded COVID-19. He suspects he contracted the virus at his resort home on the Grand Strand in Myrtle Beach, SC. When we spoke on the telephone today I addressed what to me were the two fundamental issues; namely, the thing itself and the vulgar subject of money related to the broader colloquy. I am satisfied that our succinct review of the topics has straightened the pathway.