I saw this image yesterday and stopped breathing for just a moment. It was arresting. I found it sweet and frightening. I pulled it onto my computer desktop to blog about it later.
I wanted to make sense of the feelings it elicited first, and I’m not sure I’m there yet, but close enough for now.
I love wooden mannequins. I have a small collection of them ranging in size from a tiny four-inch one all the way up to one that stands more than two feet tall. One day I hope to own a full size one – the older, the better.
They creep out my spawn altogether and when she lived with me, I kept them in my bedroom as a result. She disliked their lack of face. Ah, but this one has a face. A sweet porcelain-doll-face at that.
What drew me to the image?
He She It … looking so despondent and yet… ever-so-lovely. flexible and strong… beautifully formed … I suppose that was part of it. It was as if a marionette had performed its little heart out and then simply laid down on the stage whispering “I cannot … not one more moment.”
I’ve had a few of those days myself.
Those I love have similarly struggled. Life can just kick you in the ass some
days weeks years. Most of us manage to pick our asses up off the floor and dance again. It’s the resilience… the quiet strength we possess… that makes me smile ruefully. We ought not be tasked in this way, but if we must be? Then I’m glad we bounce back. For the most part, we live to play another day.
There’s a shit-ton of potential in all of us. As I learned in Sangha many moons ago: We are potential incarnate.
Damn, though… it’s hard. My hard may be quite different than your hard, but hard is hard. Seeing struggles all’round makes me sad – but I remain hopeful. Unlike Freddie, I dance without the painted face these days. There’s less pretense and more honesty and yet… sometimes the thing that keeps one foot in front of the author is knowing that I must. That’s all. I must.
And so – in my mind’s eye – I reach down and brush the dust off that painted face and take hold of jointed hands. I help unsteady legs find firm footing and then… well, the dance resumes. I do this and know that someone will do the same for me.