Moving in progress.
Right on cue, thunderstorms.
Summertime in the South. Sandwiches everyday. Iced dirty chai. Sticky skin. I feel like a walking beehive.
Last night, I dreamed that I was handling a wild beaver, trying to rescue it. Of course, wild things don’t always understand that you’re trying to help. I was afraid it would bite me. While I wrestled with it, I made up a song about how I was trying to help and it shouldn’t bite me. It went something like, “Beaver, don’t bite me with your big ol’ teeth / I’m jus’ tryin’ ta help you outta your fix / An’ once this is done / You can go back to havin’ fun / Better than ever before”. It was a country song, obviously.
I guess I was so worried that I woke myself up, then I tried very hard to remember the whole song. The above account is all I can remember.
I think what was suddenly so appealing about drawing when I was working on Between Two Thoughts was the momentum behind it, that it encouraged a continual push toward the edges. And I could work very intuitively. I could just pick up a piece of paper and a pen and work for hours, until I was literally falling asleep and drooling on my drawing, and then wake up and do more.
Now I’m trying to see how that translates into painting and colour, which add certain complications. Especially while trying to see this Horse.
if you can’t fuck’em, kill’em
if you can’t do it good..
do it hard
– Lydia Lynch
Tori Amos is pretty well known for her song Me and a Gun, inspired by her own rape, to the extent that some people only know her as “the chick who was raped”. (Side note: This is one of the reasons many women choose not to expose themselves as having been raped.) It’s easier to see things that way, I suppose.
This version is very quiet and expresses a delicate sadness and strength, barely indicative of the courage required to sing such a song and share it with so many people. But, as she says, “I must get out of this”.
A few years ago Tori started performing Me and a Gun in a much angrier, aggressive manner. At one point she has a knife and at another point she has a gun. I don’t like the gun portion because it seems less potent and unnecessary. Yes, the song is about a gun and not a knife, but the knife functions better in her hands. Perhaps because she was actually raped by a man with a knife? I don’t know.
The point is that anger is less acceptable in female victims than sadness. I have experienced this personally when attempting to express my feelings regarding sexual assault. It’s not that I believe perpetual anger is good for people, but I believe that we have a right to our anger just as much as to our sadness.
I think that the female character in my project is holding onto anger because it’s more appealing to her than
being feeling like a victim, but she cannot help straddling both responses. And in the midst of this, there are still other questions. And doubts.
Last night I moved like a ninja while someone chased me, I think it was a man. The woman who was supposed to kill me decided not to kill me after all, and we faked my death. But this man discovered that I was still alive and started hunting me again.
I was afraid of the water, as always, but I would climb out of windows and safely maneuver down to the ground. During waking hours, I am not so certain of my balance and strength. It’s tempting, though.
One of these days, I will take pictures of the work in my sketchbook and developing in my paintings. In the meantime, here are some things I have found somehow or other: