ILLUSIONS

Posted: February 18, 2013 in Art, journal, Women
Tags: , , , , , , ,

“A person starts to live when he can live outside himself.” Albert Einstein

Joie d' la vie, 2006acrylic on canvas, 77x102 cm (30x40)- work painted but never shown

Joie d’ la vie, 2006
acrylic on canvas, 77×102 cm (30×40)- work painted but never shown

 

“Don’t you ever think about them? He asked

“Them who?” I responded.

“Your family.”

“No.” I said emphatically,   “That door is quite closed and locked. Why would I let the evil creep back in by having a thought?”

“Just a question,” he said holding his hands up as if to defend himself.  “It just seems strange that you would not miss them.”

“What I do occasionally miss,” I sighed, “is the long ago illusion of belonging and what I thought they were.”

 

The subject has been breached and a thought escaped like a haunting shadow.

Jeez!

Even as a child, I was different from them in every way imaginable.  Looking back I was probably mildly dyslexic or even partially autistic.  I also had the ability to feel a shift in the force, to sense danger or change. Rarely for myself, mostly about others.  Could even see the elementals that flit outside the window or in the corner of your eye, but not ghosts……could only feel and hear them.

No one in my life, and I do mean no one, has ever apologized for doing wrong by me; at least not so far.  Those that did and eventually died came to me as a tangible presence weeks, months, sometimes years later, and asked for my forgiveness.  Which of course was given.  I figured if the essence of a soul is so regretful to cross the barrier with enough force to tell me they are sorry, forgiveness is granted. I also felt sad that these things could never be resolved in life.  When the rest of them die, if I am still alive, they may come too, or perhaps in another life.

What my family did or didn’t do, how or why I survived and escaped is a tale perhaps saved for a dark and stormy night when Johnny Walker wisdom is afoot.

What is a truth is that my life changed for the better when I closed that door, climbed out of the rabbit hole and stood outside of myself to learn who I really was without them.

From that point on I stopped tolerating the fools and idiots who tried so hard to bring me down so they could feel superior. I do not think I could have reached this point in my life if I had not turned my back, cut the ties, faced my true self, my illusions, my dragons and re-wrote my own future. It was not an easy road.

Perhaps it is not wise to burn bridges, but once crossed there is no real point in going back.

There have been many interlacing stages from that point until today upon which I could enact my life: student, teacher, mentor, artist, curator, friend, wife, adventurer, lover, dreamer, hopeless romantic………. I write this because now as I close out my venues at that little gallery, I realize its time for another stage of acceptance, something new this way comes.

I walked into Home Depot last week to begin their computer-based training (CBL’s), the “Front-End Cashier College” as they call it; and although I have taken CBL’s before I have never taken one that is quite so intricate, so complete, so perfect with no question left unanswered. I have a few more sessions, then there is orientation and then I get my orange apron.

Silly as it may sound, simplistic even, everything has a feeling of what coming home might feel like, and it feels very good.

 

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Comments
  1. Elizabeth Gordon says:

    What allowed you to survive should be your next post. What within you helped you to steel away until you could fly.

    Like

  2. Cher says:

    Beautifully put, Cassandra. I’ve had similar experiences as the ones you mentioned here, and I love how you have expressed them.

    Like

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