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Monday, August 10, 2009

Out Of Fear And Into Love

Staying up into the not so wee hours, offers multiple benefits only an artist can truly appreciate. I hail from a family of shameless night-owl's whom read, write, and talk themselves into many a bottomless tea-cup. Some of my fondest memories surface from many a chat around my uncle Harvey's or Great Aunt Thelma's overflowing kitchen table. Whereas other's may be glued to a one dimensional T.V. screen or in the hungry arms of another, we were cracking up laughing over the latest fun and fodder. Stirring store - bought  honey and eating too much burnt toast with home-made jam. Ah, joy!

Since those seemingly innocent days of childhood, I discovered the male role model whom my other aunt wisely left, to be a 'lover' of children. Of course, no one wanted to believe me, then... Now everyone knows, since his own son 'did time' for doing dirty things' unto his own. Sadly, it took decades for most of one more dysfunctional family to admit what I nonchalantly spoke of as a young and ever so lightly touched teen. Even my sister C wanted to believe those touches were merely loving strokes and squeezes of familial affection. Oh, the lies most tell themselves. Only to inadvertently hurt the beloved children they were put on this hurting planet to love and protect. 

My Mother was my soul protector, Goddess-sent guide and a real, good o'l fashioned Woman. Unassuming and self - assured. Placed into a far from gentle world, she gifted  me with worthy praise and healthy encouragement.  Allowed my independence, I was allotted space to grow and glow. At the tender age of 13,  I informed my Mom of what my Uncle had recently failed to succeed at ... one late night, left alone with her trusted older brother, in the basement of our house. My beautiful Mommy went directly to the broken circle of dysfunction to share the awful news. She was told she would be sent away, again, if the sordid story went any further. A silent hush order was put into place, and my self-honored Queen was ostracized, condemned, and labelled for speaking the truth to keep her eldest daughter safe.What a lesson!

So I spent most of my adult life rebelling in a myriad of very entertaining and enterprising ways ( ). Expending my phenomenal energy to entertain virtual strangers and keep myself from crying tears too long unshed. Writing poetry and prose to share ( with online fans and foes, alike. Shedding dead layers of fear and despair to fight back with love and laughter and here and there, a tear. Regaining consciousness and re-framing. Letting go of fears and gaining new and deeper insight into the shining jewel I am discovering myself to truly be.

Interesting how life can teach us lessons.  A few years ago, I lost my 8 year old child for 8 months, to a gay foster family. Realizing that I have been the unwilling victim of a lifetime of gross deceit and indecencies, only betters me and mine. Now, I am stronger and more prepared for true inner success. Where many remain lost in a maddening miar of greed and jealousy, I hold onto my sacred sanity and sense of self-preservation. Secure in the abundant knowledge that the embittered are bitter to the crazed end, I touch upon merely the beginning of a new and luscious life. Playing host to my own personal joy and happiness reigns supreme. 

Thus, this is why I choose to openly speak of the taboo. Being held hostage by The Ministry Of Children And Families does not serve me or the sick and ill-informed  society that put this backward government in impure place. People must speak their voices. Volumes have already been written about oppression, suppression, and finally ... depression. We only lose ourselves when we wait for another flounderer to find and feed us lies and diseased dissension. Ultimately we become our own worst deception. Healing does not occur when we hungrily hold onto a hurtful yesterday. Today is our only time to court consciousness and become friends with what we once believed to be disaster. Becoming our own best friend merely means being kind to that blessed inner child who's been reaching out for eon's to be consoled, not compromised. 

I offer you my heart to hold. My hopes are set high and my spirit's even higher .... Hitting my personal jackpot and secure in the innate wisdom that no matter what becomes of me in this wounded world, I have set the record straight by stating my highest intentions and illustrating through bright and vibrant illustration, what it is to feel and be  the love and light we all so want, need, desire and deserve. Leaving myself open for any fantaisical flight of fancy I so choose. This is the  end of terror. Centered, steady and ready for the consciousness-raising community I so crave. These glorious gifts I offer in exchange for glistening waters within which still to swim and mountains yet to carefully climb.




Trust you will enjoy the lovely pic I captured ( ) of my Mom ( after they sent her 'away' ), my baby pic ( my proud Daddy's camera work ), "Kathy"( school photo) at 13, and Kaelin and I - during a government allotted home visit - 3 lonely years ago. See you in the sunset!

1 comment:

  1. Sad story.
    Stop abusing your son.
    He deserves to have a happy life.
    He does not exist for your pleasure.
    You are ruining him and destroying him with each and every passing day.
    Let him go. Let him be free.

    Stop sexually abusing your son!

    He is not your husband.
    He is not a husband substitute.
    He is a child!