Sisyphus (In Greek, "Σίσυφος.")
Real or imagined, this person reminded me of an the ancient assigned to a real, or imagined personage. This weekend, we watched this person struggle and pull, fall and rise again to pull on cord attached to great big kite that collected lots, and lots, and lots of powerful air into its sail to make this string a trying tug on strength, endurance and that other thing that gets someone out on a rainy day, to play in water, with conditions to threaten more than weary arms.
I read an article this morning sent to my phone. The article discussed "tilt." It referred to "tilting" a photograph as a "Dutch tilt" using a 30 or 60 degree angle to add tension or viewing engagement, or supportive device to real, or imagined narrative within the four straight barriers confining, or condemning our frozen Sisyphus to forever struggle in torment with this large penalty of red, engulfed with heavy wind and oppositional air.
Ah yes, the article also solicited the suggestion of adding, removing or changing the appearance of color covering the realigned tilt.
I don't know this man's crime, or punishment for his crime, or if the man is truly a man. What I know for sure is this perpetual tug and pull; from leisure to pugilist purgatory has reduced this king to a fissure awaiting a scratch by the expanse of wind and rain, and perhaps wisdom to yield to yellow; while beckoning a call drowned by rapturous and roaring crashing waves to shore of defeated and conquered whisper, "Please, please a little help here; for this once and mighty king rot in stratagems and subterfuge upon antiquity's wasteful territory, stolen in Ephyra, later preached unto Gentiles, and re-claimed and renamed through epistles of Paul by way of Corinth.
Maybe, this little man was pulling sand from antiquity to modernity for foundational beginnings. A beginning to last far beyond curse, and into blessing of something bright, and mighty, and beautifully cast in riches, and splendorous evening glow of lore ... of yellow evermore.