A Beautiful Work of Art....

Many years ago...I taught a class in stage make up...I had a knack for it...I had graduated from the American Academy of Dramatic Arts...and was accomplished at teaching others how to alter their appearance with techniques and tools...and...at the end of the term...I held a final exam...the students would choose a character in a play or creation...that they would turn themselves into...with their own skills and artistry...Their study and learned expertise revealed itself through the creative birth of animals...creatures...famous characters...one famous painting...a Picasso...titled "Reading"...

Now...I have never been a fan of Picasso...I never understood his view...of life...of love...of the world...all I could see were shapes...boxes...lines...and colors...When someone spoke of his work...I rolled my eyes...I have always loved Monet's mess...standing next to it...you see splotches...dots...vibrant colors...and as you retreat...pull back...the picture comes into focus...I can see his vision...

The young lady who created this...Picasso project...was a quiet girl...distant...body shy...not particularly stunning...somewhat unusual for the gregarious mix of personalities that are actors...or at least...aspiring entertainers...As she walked into the box theater that morning...she was silent...the other students jabbering away...laughing and discussing their excitement...and what was surely going to be the culmination of their success...All the while...she worked diligently...with her back to everyone...and I prepared for this...their final grade...

Each student stepped forward...during the last hour of class...brilliant work...hard work...depth of thought...and joy...encompassed these final presentations...raucous applause...whistles...group respect and thought...encircled the group...as they stepped forward to share themselves...

The last grade was left to be doled out...as the quiet young woman stepped forward...an awkward silence overtook the once loud audience...As I looked at the colors painted on her face...I shifted uncomfortably in my seat...I already felt embarrassed for her...and I contemplated how I would grade this...this...I just didn't know...

In these uncomfortable moments...she reached up...and unbuttoned her blouse...a murmur spread throughout the space...as she withdrew each arm from each delicate sleeve...and as the fabric fell around her waist...I saw it...for the first time...each breast washed with color...her belly lined and painted...and her trembling hands holding the book that completed the picture...She said nothing...and neither did we...It was as if I had never seen art before...she was the embodiment of someone's vision...and...at the same time...she was her own creation...Although she had matched herself to the Picasso portrait...with absolute perfection...she was a work of art...like no other...

Unlike the others in the room...myself included...she had never stood naked on stage...and here she was...in a way that I have never been...as she steadied herself...staring straight ahead...the composition of who she was...became crystal clear...and I was in awe...it was one of the most moving...and bravest...things I have ever seen...

I realized...in an instant...that we are all portraits...some of us are still lifes...some of us are impressionistic...some of us are a Jackson Pollack...just a mess that moves others...and...yes...Picassos too...but most of us remain buttoned up...covering all that is most beautiful about ourselves...We don't speak...when we should...and then emotionally vomit...when only silence is needed...We are perfect in our cubist imperfections...and up close we often look like a mass of colors and dots...and as a special person steps back...they see our complete picture...and if we ever have the courage to stand naked before the world...we are amazing...and explosion of light...and color...a vision beyond words...a gift that can silence the world...all it takes...is that moment of courage...when we allow all our trappings to fall away...and stare bravely ahead...

A beautiful work of art...

Moving On Sale...

I am moving...again...I've never stopped...for a woman who has always wanted a home...I've never found one...and I hear you...what you are saying...home is within you...and you are right...Although...my legs are tired from moving...it's my back that is killing me...weighed down...from a lifetime of carrying everything with me...until now...I'm selling it all...someone else needs to own this...all of this...I can't...anymore...

FOR SALE...several chests...oiled and cared for...holds all of your memories...dreams...and hopes...plenty of room to layer years of wishes and attempts...old loves...old likes...remembrances that others have thrown away...achievements...trophies...and photos of those you've lost...what you thought your were...what you wanted to be...what you hid from everyone...what others thought they hid from you...everything you cannot let go of...

FOR SALE...dozens of paintings...framed...dust free...all the places you wish you had been...still life portraits...living objects that are frozen...easily moved from room to room...but paralyzed in one moment in time...unable to move on...fruit that will never be tasted...trees...whose branches will never sway in the wind...romances that never really existed...and a lonely woman...standing in a field...back turned to everyone...looking on...toward a long hard road that leads no where...

FOR SALE...boxes of clothing...beautiful...ornate...fabrics...that mimic the real thing...items to squeeze...cover up...distract eyes...to create an illusion...of being put together...of youth...of age...of knowledge...of wealth...of freedom...of creativity...of status...of not growing up without...of always belonging...of never sleeping in shelters...or cars...of being worthy of love...more than enough garments to cover yourself up and draw attention away from you...

FOR SALE...furniture...furniture...furniture...large heavy objects...that you can care for more than you care for yourself...pieces to cover the blankness that scares you...ideas that you can sit on...or lay down when trouble comes...or can hold your light for you...all objects can stand for you...on the legs that are as immovable as yours have been...and drawers to stuff...with everything that is normally scattered around for others to see...

FOR SALE...canning supplies...jar upon jar that you shove your creations into...pressure them to stay...and put them on a shelf...that you stare at...

FOR SALE...curtains...drapes for every window...so you can cover all the light...shut out the world...protect yourself from everyone on the outside...you can look at the beautiful colors...and the rest of the world will see blank canvas...assuming you aren't home...

FOR SALE...shoes...so many shoes...in almost mint condition...because...although you purchased them for walking...to adorn your feet...as they carried you to wondrous places...the soles are barely scuffed...because the carpet between your bedroom and the living room...protected them from damage...the damage that might occur...if you step outside and let life happen...

There are some many other items available to store...enclose...protect...cover...distract...and the initial cost is low...but the price you pay will be much higher over time...so don't wait...my doors are open...come and get it...I don't want it anymore...any of it...not one thing...I just want to walk away with myself...every part of me...it seems that all that I am...is not as heavy as what I've used to cover it up...It's time to walk light...I only have half my life left...

So...come on down...all this week...take it all...

Moving on sale...

Sleeping Through the Storm...

I don't know if you have ever lived through a hurricane...it is a phenomenon the has to be experienced...to be truly respected...It builds strength...offshore...and appears to be just an obstacle...to those anticipating it's landing...It's winds can reach 100's of miles per hour...and lift a human off their feet...as well as trees...water...and buildings...Then just when you feel the greatest force...the eye of the storm crosses you and all is silent...no birds...no wind...no sound...bright light...peace...It is at that moment...that the fierce...backhand of the storm...reaches out and breaks everything left standing...What can withstand...the first half of the disaster...rarely is left in one piece...as the second half makes contact...

I was 21 when hurricane Hugo ravaged the Carolina coast...Living in South Carolina...where the eye of the storm crossed land...I was also in the first... of a long line of dysfunctional...abusive relationships.  I had definitely been practicing at finding individuals...who would wreck my life...taking no prisoners...but...this was different...this was a real storm...destined to level everything...leave me homeless...out of work...destitute...and isolated...No...this was not a metaphor for my life...this was tangible...

My boyfriend's family...insisted...that we stay with them...their home was safe...it looked safe...secure...It was brick...strong foundation...great expanses of space...yes...this would be a wise choice...to keep he and I in one piece...and his family would support us...protect us from this natural disaster...I would leave this in their capable hands...

As we settled in...he and I...the winds began to swirl...hurling their sarcasm...with the tree branches...and the debris of broken dreams...I looked out my window and saw the impending doom...and grew sleepy...very sleepy...My eyelids began to droop...fluttering shut...drawing me deep into the belly of his family...I was hypnotized by the screams and violence around me...lulled and rocked by the crashing and crunching...the howling and searing tears falling from the sky...soon...my eyes closed...I slept deeply...and long...just like the long naps of my childhood...

When my eyes opened...to the bright morning...and scattered wreckage...devastation...I heard...in the distance...She is an odd one...quite weird...I've never known anyone to sleep through something like this...Ah...Mom...she's an idiot...Yes...I guess you are right...It was confirmed...without my voice...that I lacked the skill...or the will...to remain awake...watchful...alert...to impending danger...and unable to protect myself...

Years...a lifetime of cruel...cruel storms...I slept through...pulled deep...into a personal coma...waking only after the wreckage laid...at my feet...I often tried to force myself awake...maintain open eyes...and yet...I still walked...as if in a dream...into the jaws of hurricanes...whipped and bruised...I would gather myself together...gently picking up the pieces that I could find...Each time...I moved on...with some tiny element of my being missing...I almost disappeared...until the day that I didn't...

I stumbled...I fell over...I crawled...I dragged myself out...away from the craziness...the violence...and I didn't trust the eye of the storm...I remained awake...I knew it would end.. but...the next time...I would head the other direction...away...to real safety...maybe...not to return to the same spot...able to admit that sometimes...it's time to leave...with dignity intact...

It's odd...now...that there was a time I could sleep for hours...for days...Those days are gone...I find that I sleep little...and do more...taking small cat naps in between tasks...They say...there is no rest for the weary...I don't believe that's true...when we are weary in spirit...that is often when we sleep the most...and should be sleeping the least...During a hurricane...it is the weakest...most complacent trees that go first...quickly...and the deeply rooted...alert ones can survive...what they can't run from...It seems to me that I've slumbered enough for two lifetimes...Maybe...it's more important that I remain awake...vigilant...and no more...

Sleeping through the storm...

If I Never had Lost...

This past year...I have been quiet...much of my time...In my blog...posts have been minimal...professionally...my voice has been muted...by others and myself...by conditions...beyond my control...I have felt stifled...gagged...suppressed...and oddly...oppressed...and so...the result...is the inability to speak...and so...I feel silent...I empowered others to speak...my students...my friends...but my voice...I allowed to be strangled...and so I lost...everything...

My childhood into adulthood was my training ground for silencing my own voice...by the request...and for the needs of others...You would think that I would have learned...to stop loving...to stop believing...but I didn't...I saw each situation as a new one...somehow different than all the others...and that now my silence would be most appropriate...and each time...I lost...everything...

Losing everything is a skill that I have developed over a lifetime...refined and perfected...to that point that I can be in the midst of losing everything...and all those around me...are completely unaware of the mass exodus of my acquisitions...physical and emotional...and as I have watched the doors fly open...once again...and a great tornado pulls seemingly everything I own away...to a great spinning core...where all becomes the splintered remnants of my...yet...greatest attempt...just as I shake hands...once again...to loss...in this most vulnerable moment...I realize the truth...loss means nothing to me...except...for the loss of the ability to love...to believe...

I believe that the day I stop believing...stop loving...I will die...I will be come one of the walking dead...an empty shell...truly alone...Others can take...and take...I can be stripped naked...strangled...muzzled...battered...but no one can take...my ability to love...to believe...I have to give that up myself...and if I did...what would be left...

Many would say...that I have experienced enough...that my willingness to risk everything...to leap...eyes wide open...into abyss...after abyss...believing that there is something for me when I land...that this is inappropriate...that I am inappropriate...and enough is enough...and my response is...who are we to say what is enough...the only way to know if something is meant to be yours...is to risk losing it...or risk having it...

Many would say...this is not for everyone...and I say...why not...is it not our gift to ourselves to try many...many things...knowing that only a precious few...will remain in our lives...the rest we will let go...or have them ripped from our fingers...and that this fierce loss is what saves us from losing ourselves...the universe protecting us...clearing the deck...for that next great thing...those faces...those lives...those moments...that life free of regret...that wisdom gained...the new beginning...again...

So...let the winds rise....let the oceans crash...let the fires burn away all that I own...let others deny me...let my back feel that I can take no more...I spread my arms wide...so that my heart is open...exposed...so that all can see my frailties...and my strengths...so that any enemy of living...can shoot arrows at my spirit...for I will not die...I will not die...until I decide...and although my dignity may be dirtied and bruised...I will love again...I will believe...and how do I know this...because...I have done this so many times...I have lived...and will continue...and I could never have done this...

If I never had lost...