Am I not pretty enough?
Ring-a-ring-a-Rosie found herself, yet again, in another ‘plonk’. So she wrote herself a small consoling note and tucked it into her not so frilly sock. With this minor act of strange defiance, she farewelled the want for endless trouble free relationships and confirming admiration. And although she didn’t know it yet, it would be her greatest step towards an ever after, not entirely based on happiness but of creating for herself a solid sense of place. And one that suited her socially shy and solitary self.
(Reposted from 2011. Find her in Clunk & Jam book.)
A Stitch In Time .
I’m all broken – they can’t see. So I must save myself from me. I cross my heart, dry my eyes and swear I’ll never wish to die.
Bad things taught her that suffering would stop the hurt from hurting so much. And so a tug of war of hurts began. The more she hurt, the more she hurt herself. Until one day, in the long loss of her own battle, she beat herself so hard she lost her own battle – she surrendered. It was in the surrender that she discovered personal victory came, not from beating the hurting, but from mending her neglected SELF.
Footnote: Looking at this ink holding her doll by the hair, you can’t but feel the want to put a loving arm around her shoulder and ‘take her in’. Take better care of her. The doll could also suggest the importance of separating the ‘wrongs’ from ourselves – particularly the wrongs done to us by others. We must endeavor to be the keepers and minders of our selves. As tough and daunting a responsibility that can be, winning your own battle is ultimately the most liberating.
(Reposted from 2009. Originally in ‘Rock The Boat’ handmade book. Now in Clunk & Jam, 2019 book)
Grumpy Green Bones .
Because this little soldier asked for so little she wondered if that’s why others believed she had it all and therefore offered nothing in return for what they took. So she fled into the darkness that shielded her from the glare of eyes that stole. An endless space void of the strike of green, swell of black and blue, ooze of red, shock of pink and lure of white. And while some thought they’d made her disappear, others thought she’d succumbed to the darkness. But what they couldn’t see long after the sun had sizzled and sunk, was how she’d become one with the inky moonlit balm that soaked deep into her soul as she lay cocooned in the soft white sheets that wrapped around her and always carried her home … just in time for breakfast.
(Reposted from 2009. Originally in ‘Rock The Boat’ handmade book, handwriting by Mags. Now in Clunk & Jam, 2019)
Soul Cup .
I wish upon myself, that one day I’ll be as comfortable in me, as she in her tub. Pop this in your cup … once the soul has left its pot, its own cup it must fill. One teaspoon or two? Entirely up to you. But do we must, fill our cups, with pinkies pointing up. And rise we do in fluff and blue, and endless possibility …
Personal footnote: Just got back from talking at a conference up North in the remote mining town of Newman. Struck by the extent of individual and community suffering, this ‘Ink’ arrived.
(Reposted from 2011. Find her in Clunk & Jam book.)
She Didn’t Have To Know Everything.
(Reposted from 2011. Find her in ‘Clunk & Jam’ book.)
Just one more …
It’s hard when things end. When you really, really want them to keep going. To last forever.
Footnote: This ‘Ink’ could be suggesting an eventual shrinking of the loss. An end to the slide. And perhaps even new growth – in herself. Her arrival and the hopeful spin on her meaning was influenced by the music and message ‘Never Give Up – Find Your Own Way Home’ by Sia. Suggesting … the secret to change could well be in the building?
