Today, 2 hours before my final review to end my first semester at Mills I sat there eating breakfast wondering what I should do. I had a few hours before the 3 person committee would come in to my studio and review my work. I'd already spent 2 whole days prepping for Open Studios which happened this past weekend so I was pretty set up, presentable for the review. But there was a choice I needed to make which was between locking myself in the studio suiting up and throwing down more paint, making last minute work to reinforce the pieces I already had, I work well under pressure, this we established already - I coud get it done if I wanted or the alternative would be to write, sit there and write, practice the words I would speak to them. Write out my thoughts, ideas, organize, clump into like families, think about my concepts. Then I decided - to write, that words were powerful. I could make the worst piece look amazing by talking about it in such way. I could break bones, knock someone out, scar them for life, make them think they're ugly - I'd much rather get into a physical fist fight than be verbally raped and left for dead - it'd haunt me forever, I'd cry about it a decade later. I'll think I'm a fat, ugly, stupid, loser just cause they told me I was over and over again. Words, I'll use to my words this time.
M-Day Advent Calendar:
On Day 13:
Slow, inadequate, socially awkward, a genius, wasn't passionate.
Throw a punch. No. Use your words.
Black eye. Swollen. No. Thick skin isn't always thick enough.
Inner damage. The outside immaculate.
Two worlds existing in perceived harmony.
The things I said. Haunt. Me. More than you.
Forgive me. Help me to forgive me.
A nagging, like a ache.
I feel like you said.
I wish I could say.
Come what may.
And walk away.