Storm

(July 3, 2014)

“ There is nothing more dangerous than a woman
Who makes you stop and think, why?
That usually happens when your soul is talking to hers
Despite what both bodies might have decided
To communicate between themselves,
Such resemblance of souls is something magnetic,
More powerful than any other connectivity,
And usually drives to and sustains
In a higher level than common chemistry”

                                                 –F Wolff

There are a great many years of childhood that I cannot remember. Large chunks of time that I certainly lived but absolutely cannot recall. It appears that this is not normal as my friends are amazed that I cannot remember my youth. I have learned that this is actually quite normal for someone who suffered abuse. Dissociation is a defense mechanism that protects one from reliving events, and in some instances, entire blocks of time. So, in one sense, my inability to recall is normal, in the psychoanalytical version. Perfectly normal.
Except I’ve always known that I was far from normal and in fact lived mostly in an imaginary and isolated world where I retreated to art and music or anything that removed me from where I was to where I was safe. And soon enough, the imaginary place that was safe became real and the real became unknown and forgotten. It became so thoroughly forgotten that if I ever wanted to recall any of it I would have to resort to hypnosis.
There was an encounter with a friend one year ago, in 2014, where he said something to me that triggered flashbacks, much to my amazement. This was a series of events going back to age 11.
What followed was a tsunami of buried life events come front and center to see and experience again. Except this time, I had the strength to face each one with mercy and forgiveness and the power to set them free.
An encounter with a friend, divinely timed, was what catapulted me to the depths to face my fears, and ride the waves to shore.
All the while, I was painting this canvas. There were many layers, layers upon layers. Dark clouds, light clouds, and in the beginning, even a forest. There are layers of emotion and truth buried there.
I find it difficult to look at, still. I, of course, know what is there. And I have been amazed at the emotion it elicits in others. For each person, it will speak words written solely for them. But, whatever it might say, it does speak.