"Strumming My Pain" graphite on paper by Cristina Querrer
You must think I am a woman
who is mad about armor
the redwood tree that
rips itself from its roots
to feel its pain kind
I am a woman who is mad
about the languid, plunging
deep and hard into the earth kinds
not paper thin things
that depend on gust of wind
to get anywhere
I need a feel me kind
of weight, heavy weight keep up with my steps my sighs my sobs Not the faux luxe the shine slick silk, surface stuff For that fleshy armor the one that yearns to be lustrous, tenacious and glorious is stock and tender brevity is forever lost on them Give me the marrow the center of things where endless streams of blood runs through imaginative veins I shall stand steadfast there
I renamed this drawing to "Branching Off" because in essence that's where I find myself doing at this juncture. I feel the universe is working with me, sending me opportunities, giving me hope that I can indeed realize and actualize.
Next week is Thanksgiving and this year is coming to a close. What a hell year it has been for me: in limbo, groping in the dark for direction, untangling myself from someone who has discarded me a long time ago and I did not know until just recently...all I was doing is hanging on a mere thread and feeding off of crumbs. Definitely not a way to exist.
I will learn to listen more and see more and experience more as the new year comes around. As I branch out, I plan to set my roots, at least more than just drifting as of late in "dead pan water", I wrote in one poem.
I thank my family and friends who have been there for me--for all that they do--for it means so much to me.
However, this year, I just don't want to survive but thrive. I wish you the same in solidarity, my dear artsy fartsy friends...