The Wrong Day....

One Sunday, recently....
I cried, my heart.... Echoed around the world, those hungry, lonely and lost. What was my pain to theirs? I could not eat, i had no friend and i didn't have direction....
What, indeed, was my suffering on that one day, compared to a lifetime of Sundays? Do they have more hope than i? I cut and burned this pathetic life to see if it would end, and did it? Did i lose? Loss is lost only if it was gained. Nothing was gained, nothing real.... just the echoes in a shallow pond. A dazzling, plastic wrapper containing nothing but, sourness. The situation, fruitless. An unripe apple is no use, will not feed the hungry. There is no point feeding the hungry if you cannot eat yourself. What does friendship mean if your stomach is empty? Friendship may fill a cried out heart? Is this where you need your friend to be? To share your pain? I would not share these feelings with the world. The world has its own problems, i will not burden. I will eat, make a friend and find myself once more.... on a sun filled day.

Letter to Lucretia....

Letter to Lucretia....
You won't like me now........ or what i have become. I am still an artist, however, i do not paint any more. A true artist will struggle in life and it is his job to resent the inferior copiers, producers of commercial kitsch. I will not give any more. I refuse to legate my talent to a fat cat which will only make them fatter. She who owns a tower block shaped like a fruit press will not own me or mine. She who squeezes the block's occupants dry. No, she will not benefit from my work. She will not enjoy the benefits of my work again. She whose only talent is to make money from Philistines. She who is not family........ or friend. She whose life is theatre, who is merely an actor. For a true artist does not have a career. These souls you will put on a show for, who are they? Do you really know them or what they really want/need? Will they get to know you........ how i once did? While they exist in your tower block, do you see them? When you make a show to prove you care to mop up their life-blood and tell them all is fair. What happens when you leave? When the cameras stop rolling and the light is taken away? Is it not better to never have known warmth than to experience it for a few minutes in a long, cold lifetime? I know you........ i know you well. You are the privileged girl from one year down who required of me to draw her this and describe her that. And i did........ i did anything i could to please you even though i found you sometimes waring. I knew one day you would return my favours with your kindness........ you were my warmth. So when do we marry as you once promised? When do we come together to see the people we once were........ and who we are now? There is no need........ you see me every day my dear Lucretia as i am your reflection. All you despise in me is all that is within you but, are too scared to acknowledge, to accept or ever dare reveal. Do you recognise me? Do you know me? Did you ever? I am now a part of you but, i always have been........ i was your tower. I tried to please you in every way as i was sure you'd be kind enough to return the favour one day........ i am still waiting........ did you forget about me? How can you bring out the best in someone who you actively avoid? You'll get your tower in the sky one day, you'll find someone only too willing to build it for you. However, it will not be exactly how you want it. You'll need a true artist to give you exactly what you want. Yes, you'll get your plastic tower but it will be the artist in a shoe box who will run free. Yes, you will have your tower but, there will always be a part of you unfulfilled. You'll never see my drawings again. You'll never ask me to draw for you again.