I have felt stifled. As if to write what I
want or create what I want,
consequences for it all are doled out.
Loss of friends? WTF? Then you don’t
know me at all frankly. Why is that?
Because maybe you never took the time to
learn who I am, I say in reply.
Why must some other meaning be read into each
thing I create? Either in written form, painting
or mosaic form. Why does it have to be about
someone or something, can they not just be my
passion in general coming forth?
The truth of Dance With Me is that it was
to be a statement on Lesbian love.
The wall behind those women was a door
in my eye as I drew it. The frame of it remains.
I couldn’t take it out.
I set out to say something about the need
to hide our passion behind closed doors, secrets.
When what I want is to shout it from rooftops.
I adore you! I long for you all the time.
I will feel that passion for you anywhere and everywhere,
against a wall, behind a door, in the forest and far beyond it.
Feel it with me!
All that screamed inside me as I drew it.
But in the end, the door knob was removed and a wall
was built in it’s place. Because my fear of those
consequences got in the way of what I wanted to say.
And so, they dance….
passionately and with bold stokes of color.
They are there.
——————————–
Dance With Me. Sing out loud. Feel the tingle
of it. Allow it in, let it grow to bursting.
Pick flowers in the morning dew with bare feet,
while wearing gowns that flow in the breeze…
LIVE!!
