I sold my mother’s rocking chair a few hours ago.
I sold the lamps in my living room and there is little light in there now.
But I don’t care. I want to be free from all of this.
I spent yesterday ripping up all of my drawings from art school from 25 years ago. And as I stood there in a daze, ripping up the paper, I realized that I have spent my whole life trying to get my self-value from another person. The amount of energy that it took to be pretty, to hide my hardness, to dazzle the other with my talents. A life time of energy that I gave away freely for the wink of the eye.
Turning 65 has freed me. Finally old enough to not care what you think of me. I don’t care how many evil eyes you send my way. I am getting rid of all of this stuff, these things… things I used to try to get you to see me so that I could see who I am in your eyes.
Solitude now for over two years. no batting of the eyelashes, no come ons, no approvals, only disapprovals for not going along to get along. Rejection, hatred, anger, dismissal from many of those eyes I used to gaze into. The averting and abrupt hangups have taught me so much. I withdrew, went inside, looked at what I needed and what I was lacking to cause me to turn to the outside. I found my grounding and claimed it. I stood tall. I stood alone, alone against the world. The whole world! Others came along. My darling lovely daughter who is not one to go-along-to-get-along came to stand, and now there are lots of us who stand together. we risked everything, our reputations, friends, families, jobs, homes, neighborhoods and our sense of community. The bay area does not deserve us. Shame on those who have turned their backs on what we know, what we have seen that most are too afraid to see, and the terror we have felt.
Is anybody out there?
Medusa is calling.
can you hear her clarion call?
Can you hear that sound?
the bubbling fissure coming up from thousands of years of muddy going-along-to-get-along shit.
Ya, it stinks. Ya, it is rotten, it’s the inner sewer and it can make you sick as hell. The new world calls us to acknowledge this stench within. Ignore it and go mad. Carl jung taught us this many years ago. But the majority of the world did not learn so expect madness.
I love who I have become, I love my life I say to myself as i flick the paper-like skin from my many twisting heads. They float around me as a projection screen showing me glimpses of memory that was never me.
I wait to be uncomfortable.
I wait for risk so that I can discover who I am.
snakes and all.