Mixed media on Antique Paper
Size - 21.6 x 11cm
Created 2007
STORY
She tried to starve herself for her words
Like a tree releases moisture in a drought to coax the rains-
She played a game to coax the words
A small sacrifice for the greater good of words-
It’s a gamble that nature takes- this was in her nature also
She gambled
Wait for the rains and watch the block move-
Pray the block moves-
Block shifted but into something else- and she watched without remorse-as she saw it had a little of her language tied to it-
The very words she was trying to coax found her a finding- she traced a path up the skin and to wound, not to the words-
They were retreating in reaction
Sealed neath the wounds are the words-
She tried to cleanse herself, so her wounded words would heal-
Limp and slow her skin soaked up her wounded wordless apathy and made her wait-
Writing it away won’t work as she fed it morsels of Morse code-
Codes and secrets with a hope-
The life in her is trying to get out…not to end- the words have a way of finding a way-
But that only made them go deeper, this was her process-
It’s in her bones now
Words have tested her and sorely so- She was blunt she was gentle-
She learnt to pace herself and listened to the strength of her heart-
The origin of a language was all she had now- THUDDA thudda THUDDA thudda THUDDA thudda THUDDA thudda
The words weren’t lost for good-
But she……………..Was She?
That language of body told her that her timing wasn’t wrong-
Find a way for words
No more starving to bring out the best-
No cutting of the skin to test the origin of idea-
Her impermanence and impatience were not the destroyers of or the creators of her inspiration-
They were just words- Proof of its own
Method and means-
She had both
They shared in this victory
She now sees the limitlessness of words stretched out before her-
A way for beautiful words-
Beautiful in the form and true in their meaning- Smitten with possibility
They weren’t as pretty as the last ones, but at least they didn’t carry sinister meanings and underhanded characters with them- these ones had something more - They had strength and volume, like they carried proof of her worth
And a weight of her wants-
They had rhythm and dare/ing-
Words she can now give a new meaning to-
Time passes and so new words come to her………….penumbra- a dark witness- a former glory – A description of deeds
Watching the works of her words wind their way to the heart to find the rhythm that she lost-
Meaning with the words-they found a way to honour her and surface thru her skin-
As she scratches at those old scabs and feels the knocking of history in her bones-
It’s a remainder of a reminder
The history of her deeds and the words for the stories-
They have honoured her-
She has the meaning now-
A token shrine whistle ling thru my memory shapes
