she is the scabbed skin
you want to pick off before its time is due
a tarnished restriction
the shade of umber
that is always cracked and damaged
she is the skin
you live in
the kind you can’t feel
but pray to shed
slip slither out of
white death
a netting of ugly
she is the voice inside your head
the one that isn’t ever happy
telling you
you are chained in materialism
and need
and want
more more more
you have never known her
but one day she will help you
crawl out of these demons.
crawl.
Author notes
Written as support for my woven textile collection.
My project was inspired by snakeskin and the fact that snakes shed their skin
almost every season. I began thinking about consumerism and how we are driven
to change our look every season. How most of us are always uncomfortable with
the way we look - and in a way 'wish we could shed our skin' to look like someone
else.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Oh that balance between the world we manipulate and expect to feed us and the spiritual world that feeds our creativity and we to often strip mine instead of farm with our soul. Still your usual sharp insightful style.
Love, Tom B.
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