(Artist unknown to me)
This piece speaks to a time of extreme self victimization I was going through. I was extremely at war with myself, my body and my appearance, and was violent with myself – punishing and punitive. Scars from the past (acne marks, etc) reminded me constantly of the torturing pain I endured through it all.
I drag my hand across the surface of my skin, and hold the feeling place of gentleness. I remember the pain of the past, the wounds and remnants of marks and identifications.
I cry about the wounded hearts in the world, the unsettled vigilantes who bleat for betterment of society. Yearning churning hungry stomachs clutched by grasping hands…
Their somber destitution makes my idealized mental imagery of what I should look like look vain.
There is a rift between what I know, what I see, who is there staring back at me. I have permission now to move beyond cycling in the problems of my own and others.
There is an opening here that tells me I can move beyond obsession, fixation, and compulsion about what isn’t working here.
I am free from living in this petrified state of fear that leaves me broken shattered alive, like a walking zombie.
If reality is so fluid and flexible, it is high time to start wielding my creative energies for solutions in my life and focusing on such in society, rather than dwell on my own imperfections.
“Victims are violent people”- Byron Katie