They walk all around and you can see they love her
They lie on her cool her grass, and trim her long hair
They gather broken limbs from the trees and give them back to the gods by fire ritual.
They love this property.
They understand that she is old, but she holds such magnificent history with every carved piece of wood or welded scrap of metal.
She gives birth to pools of water that fill with tears of hardship
She can only listen in the background as criticisms that surround to her keeper
He is like a bull, so strong and with such a thick welded armour
Yet he remains sensitive and so fragile within
He is consumed with sadness,
Still he creates with elegant lines and gentle colours
I can not fathom the strength it takes
For I crumble and fall to the ground at the thought
To stand at the sidelines from behind the safety fence of employment, security
Possibly criticize and most certainly judge
So many feel it is their right to do so.
So many would wither and die to have lived one year in his shoes.
July 6 2016
So today a sculpture comes home.
I think that I am running out of enthusiasm. Having to always defend my dream of Newfoundland has worn me down.
If you keep getting told why would you want to do that? and they have winters you know. Who do you know there?
What will you do if you get sick?
All of these things chip away a bit more every time till there is this skeleton left with tiny bits of meat left on them, only enough to keep the vital organ going to keep breathing. This is a living death.
Then its the what are you going to do?
All these friggin questions!!!
They don’t understand that it takes a lot of energy for me to focus on the good things with this new life possibility.
Do they think this glued on smile is natural?
Do they not know that all this laughing and smiling is hiding all the doubt and pain I still have in me!
All the self questioning all the uncertainty, yet they think nothing to keep their mouth shut!
They think nothing of me for if they really did ……..
they would just listen.