She felt she was only 17
With the undeveloped physique of a 14 year old
Wondering about her prospects in the future
What waited outside her self sense only
Slightly battered by outside opinion of
The boys.
Still she wasn’t subdued by their
Taunts , the ones who did not find
Her worthy of their attention
Each day when dusk arrived
She would sit and admire her solitude
Imagine an adult life without
The concern of how they saw her
And revel in the dusk she
Revered .
Time.
Spent .
Alone.
This feeling of a deep need to create has pushed it’s way to the surface of a long standing and very private despair about humanity. It is the core feeling which drives me to meet the challenges of both my instinct to make something and my desire to caretaker something. Both desires come from the same place , but now have equal standing in my psyche.
It is now five weeks since the eastern metro area has been issued a stay at home warning. I am unexpectedly relieved. This unnatural state of affairs suits my introverted persona just fine and causes me to intuitively reach inside my creative self for support. Truthfully I am elated! Scared but elated that I can move from tele-caregiver to practicing artist without a thought for the importance of both roles. This is finally me, the one I left behind when I practiced the sole job of dedicated mental health worker. Unfortunately this deeply held revelation comes at the price of facing my own mortality for I am part of the at risk population that at this moment should be assiduously protected. I am old. Still a considerable neophyte in regard to my art career, but old to the world. I am persistent.
I wonder where my writing went ?
The process of going inside.
Interiority : A process of engagement.
Art and Self from the Inside/Out
INSIDE/OUT 