Voices
are you up for a story? up late?
as we settled down for a long night, I sat across from her ready to listen. Listen...did you hear the voice? Visualize...did you see the
old woman? Touch...did you feel something brush across your skin leaving nothing but chills?
these are the moments you don't forget, tears are spilled and all you can do is catch them in your hand. I listen without a word to say. What do you say...
the person sitting across from me begins to talk, I have written her story as it was told to me.
Memorial Day: hot and muggy intertwined with tense air. I am wearing the appropriate Red White Blue mismatched bikini with RWB flip flops, barely nothing, because it is so fucking hot and I can't afford to run the air. The scene is not a glamorous one, I have sprayed
off in the water hose more than once, drip drying into a matted mess looking like I just woke up from a hellish nightmare.I am multitasking. Laundry, editing and house cleaning,stairs and into a laundry room. I am doing laundry stuff, my mind has wondered off into another place...again.
Modified version
skipping all the personal stuff
when you hear the person you are living with calling your name but he says it wasn't him.
I was in the back apartment when I heard him call my name, three times he called but I did not answer
I was deep in thought about a connection, the painting caught my eye. "Broken House" reminding me of my own broken house.
When I looked out the door into the backyard there was no one there.
I went up stairs and asked "why did you call" he responded "I didn't"
He had heard the voice as indistinguishable and had a vision of me with a bloody face.
I feel I have a guests and when the guests arrives:
Does it manifest in the art of this artist and subliminally I call
to it when in desperate need for expression, release, change, freedom. It comes to me, I feel its presence shaking me out of sleep.
Telling me "THE WORK IS NOT OVER!" AND THEN AS ALWAYS...CHAOS.
The art is the most symbolic thing I own, I connect with it in a primal state of mind, it brings chaos needed for the repair of my
soul, experiences that I seem to have no control over. It brings truth and knowledge that is sometimes hard for me to except, which is
my challenge.
my guide enters through the door of this art.
The art opens a portal to my soul.
AF
is this possible?
Modified version
skipping all the personal stuff
when you hear the person you are living with calling your name but he says it wasn't him.
I was in the back apartment when I heard him call my name, three times he called but I did not answer
I was deep in thought about a connection, the painting caught my eye. "Broken House" reminding me of my own broken house.
When I looked out the door into the backyard there was no one there.
I went up stairs and asked "why did you call" he responded "I didn't"
He had heard the voice as indistinguishable and had a vision of me with a bloody face.
I feel I have a guests and when the guests arrives:
Does it manifest in the art of this artist and subliminally I call
to it when in desperate need for expression, release, change, freedom. It comes to me, I feel its presence shaking me out of sleep.
Telling me "THE WORK IS NOT OVER!" AND THEN AS ALWAYS...CHAOS.
The art is the most symbolic thing I own, I connect with it in a primal state of mind, it brings chaos needed for the repair of my
soul, experiences that I seem to have no control over. It brings truth and knowledge that is sometimes hard for me to except, which is
my challenge.
my guide enters through the door of this art.
The art opens a portal to my soul.
AF
is this possible?
