Army of Ink Me Jane

 

Me Jane .  

Dangling in a moment of vulnerability, out of her jungle mind came a thought…3 thoughts actually…Could she make it without the BOy?  Did she have to take such a wild and dangerously dependent leap—after all?  And was it really that difficult and frightening to just let go?

This swinging ink has layer upon layer of meaning to sit and wonder about—like…. Is she really swinging up high or is this a trick?  Is her foot in fact, firmly planted on the ground?  Is she clinging for her life at the mercy of the rope (or the BOy), or has she taken a firm grip to put a stop all this swinging business?   And what is this swinging business about anyway?  Which way is she going?  Back?  Forward?  Nowhere right now?  Or has she finally landed in her very own spot?   Is the rope attached?  Is it all about to uncoil leaving her in a heap?   Or is it going to lift her up, whoosh her away from whatever it is she’s so afraid of right now?  To be continued no doubt …..