Sir Gawain ventured boldly across a woefully bleak wasteland, with a heavy heart, burdened mind and courageous spirit.
Hornswoggled by a mischievous and duplicitous child and his gang, the knight-to-be was left, bereft of his belongings and beloved horse, lost in the woods.
Plunging with vigor and fervor into the mystical depths of the spring to rescue the spectral, transformative maiden’s head, Gawain dove.
Follower or foe? Innocently trailing alongside our hero, the slight statured squire steers him on this precarious path.
Arthurian legends wouldn’t be whole without a test of the chivalric code for the knight in question.
Challenging his purity of heart and unfaltering fealty to honor, Gawain must remain chaste in conduct despite the lady’s advances. Any departure from his promise will besmirch his image and chance at knighthood.
Heroism is fraught with obstacles, set to foster growth from deep within the spirit. Leading to the ultimate confrontation of who he is, who he can become in the face of an otherworldly opponent.
Dichotomous division lies within the juxtaposition of life and death, red and green, passion and the void of existence. Captivated by the lady’s manipulative monologue, the damaging deceit befalls him thereafter.
Earthly sinful serpent of the garden and its delights, the lady steals his sanctity. A quarrelsome qualm that cannot quell the quixotic and quizzical quest of his mind. He is defeated.
The lord bestowed his unwavering kindness, tacitly warned Gawain of dark forces, and dismissed him from his dwelling. All with a devastating depth of regret.
Christmas Day had come, the ax has been swung, fate befell the fallen saint. Gawain will kneel beneath the sword as a noble knight, sit upon the throne and under the crown, but not yet.
Through the Looking Glass 