The Chameleon

For better and for worse
A woman carries his cross.
Did she understand all the acts
When she signed the contract?

When she falls off
he's impatient with her irrational attitude
as he can't stand his own so
quickly she climbs back up
Spreads her arms exposes her heart.
The nails are easily back in and
All is well again, in order.

She accepts the consequences
Does she know she's not there?
That she doesn't exist?
She cleared the place to accommodate his shit.

In return
He gave her all the keys of his kingdom with one single rule
The room of anger and rage is mine
Don't ever use it or I'll kill you.

She's good, she won't even try
She's probably even lost the key.
She is what he expects of her
At all times.

Like a chameleon
She soaks up his atmosphere
Slips inside his landscape and
Makes herself part of it
Oblivious and invisible to her own.

I need help to discover what my own landscape look like
I'll accept all the help I can get to find out what my true colours are

The little princess

once upon a time a long, long time ago lived a little girl who always wanted to be a princess. She dreamt about it every day and every night so much so that one day she just knew that her dream had become reality. She had become a princess. She was the most beautiful little princess and she was so special that all the animals of the farm recognised her and loved her, and all the horses recognised her and loved her, and all the people recognised her and loved her. When some people didn't recognise her or didn't pay her the respect she was due she became very angry. But a princess cannot possibly get angry because it is so out of character and ugly. And so instead she would turn around and leave.

Now this little girl had many brothers and sisters and she knew that all of them wanted to become princes and princesses too and so there was stiff competition. And so she dreamt more than her brothers and sisters, and she asked always to be the most beautiful and the most intelligent of all and to be worshipped by all the people across the land. And when some people didn't worship her the way she was due she became very angry. But a princess cannot possibly get angry because it is so out of character and ugly. And so instead she would turn around and leave.

The most beautiful little princess left the land where too many people didn't love her and worshipped her the way she was due and arrived to a new land where all the people loved her and worshipped her the way she was due. And she was very happy. But as time went by the little princess was growing up and the love and worship of all the people was no longer quite enough because she wanted the most beautiful prince to find her and to love her and to worship her the way she was due. If the most beautiful prince could not find her then could all the love and the worship from all the people really be real? The little princess who was growing up became angry because the most beautiful prince obviously didn't live in this land. But a princess cannot possibly get angry because it is so out of character and ugly. And so instead she would turn around and leave.

The most beautiful little princess left the land where too many people didn't love her and worshipped her the way she was due and arrived in a new land where all the people loved her and worshipped her the way she was due. And the most beautiful prince lived on this land and found her and loved her and worshipped her the way she was due. But as time went by the little princess was growing up and all the love and worship of the most beautiful prince was no longer quite enough because she wasno longer that he was the most beautiful prince. She might have made a mistake and the most beautiful prince was still looking for her to love her and worhip her. The little princess grew angry the real most beautiful prince obviously didn't live in this land. But a princess cannot possibly get angry because it is so out of character and ugly. And so instead she would turn around and leave.

Once again, the most beautiful princess left the land where the prince had tricked her to think that he was the most beautiful prince and she erred for a long time. Finally she arrived in a new land where people didn't love her not worshipped her the way she was due. Because the people didn't love her and worship her she could be get angry, get out of character and ugly and she became very angry against the people of this land. But they didn't care and they continued living their lives without loving her or worshipping her. When she saw that being angry didn't change them one bit, she wept and wept and wept until the tears dried out and she fell asleep. When she woke up, the little princess had gone and only a not so young woman was there. And next to her stood a man who was not the most beautiful prince and she smiled at him.

it's just getting bigger... and bigger...

two and a half weeks and only now do I notice that the wind must have got stronger already back then... it happened far beyond the horizon and I didn't see it maybe also because I'd been falling low... but it's been building up stronger and stronger ever since, without me noticing.

the first highly formed waves have come crashing against the shore already... as an premise of a much bigger storm on its way? is my boat sea-worthy? I'm too far out to head back to safety to the harbour...

the biggest conscious test just gone seems now to have been only a few ripples on the surface compared to what is making its way toward me, as ancestral rage and hate surface from the deepest and darkest places and nothing will be stopping them this time. I'm prepared and terrified as I know it's the only way out and there's no escape. Not this time!

I can do with love, prayers, hugs, all good intentions...

making space for the Goddesses inside

day trip to Paris.
needed to raise to the occasion.
calling on the Goddess Athena
needed her present, ambitious, clear and quick minded and rational.
present she was, pleased to be on stage and play the part again
she sent out excellent vibes
then sent in the emotional bill!

loneliness, anxiety, worthlessness, invisibility, ugliness...

"of course!" I think hitting my forehead with the palm of my hand.
dear cold, calculating, planning Athena
leaves a trail of emotional vacuum
and my inside half, three-quarter (or more?) dead!

dead!? when Paris offers
romance and sensuality
love and sex
as well as car horns
deafening underground
quiet, stunning Cour carrée du Louvre
and improvised, delightful opera soprano
in the warm early Spring evening sun.
connecting with the beauty of the site
not allowed,
'cos i'm worth it, remember?

in the end,
thanked Athena for her help
asked her to step down
til next time.
let go of emotional memories
anchored in my body
and a smile being drawn on my face.

half excited, half terrified

More and more I am discovering facets of who I am...
I try to say to the world that I am like this when really, if I take responsibility for my actions, I am more like that - or at least, I am ALSO like that...

I am fine with it
I am not fine with it
Where am I?
Who am I?
What do I want?
What do I need?

Is this REALLY me?
At the moment, yes.
Am going over the top or is it simply who I am?
I don't have the answer at this very time...

grandir, c'est mourir un peu...

Comme à chaque fois que je « dois » prendre une décision importante, j’y pense pendant longtemps, je tergiverse, je tourne et retourne la situation dans tous les sens, « est-ce vraiment ce que je veux, ce dont j’ai besoin…. » Et puis un beau jour, tout est limpide, simple et les étapes de préparation s’enchaînent sans heurt. Alors quand j’ai pensé pour la première fois à venir à Port-Blanc, et que je “savais” que je devais faire seule ce retour aux sources, ça a rendu la situation un peu plus compliquée, mais finalement sans grande conséquence…

Si au moment de la mort de Bonne-mam’ j’ai eu de nombreux « c’est la dernière fois… », cette fois ça a été beaucoup de « j’ai démarré ma route, j’y suis presque… ». Les larmes ont coulé alors que le train partait de London Waterloo, que le Ferry quittait le quai à Portsmouth, que je démarrait la voiture de loc’ à St Malo, que je passais le passage à niveau à la sortie de Guingamp, le panneau de Penvénan sur la route de Tréguier, puis dès la première inspiration à l’entrée dans la cuisine… Cette odeur, cette odeur… c’est la mer, l’humidité, les petits-déjeuners si tardifs que les grands préparent déjà le repas de « midi », le feu de bois, la terre, le vélo rouillé, le renfermé, le pain grillé du matin, le soleil qui souhaite la bienvenue à une nouvelle journée, la marée, le Chouen au fond du jardin, la vase, les crevettes, la pêche aux lançons à la pleine lune et grande marée, le poisson, les bonbons du fond de l’armoire et ceux qui remplissent la soupière, les bottes qui s’alignent sous la fenêtre, les bonjours à la cantonade… cette odeur, c’est tout ça à la fois, et plus encore !

A Dieu Vat, c’est le nom de la maison, c’est « chez moi ». C’est un retour aux sources familiales bien sûr mais surtout, surtout, un retour à l’intérieur de moi-même. Comme si chaque petite (ou grande) action faite dans ce lieu et ses alentours – être assise sur un banc passé le sillon de l’île aux femmes pour profiter du coucher de soleil, me cuisiner un maquereau, une promenade sur les rochers de Trestel à marée descendante, un retour au Gouffre même à marée descendante et par vent d’ouest (je savais que ça ne « sauterait » pas), un aller/retour tout au bout du sillon de Talbert, une excursion à Ploumanac’h – est une nouvelle porte ouverte dans mon chez moi intérieur, une autorisation à être, à sentir, à écouter, à entendre, à découvrir, à connaître, à aimer, à vivre… Paradoxalement, quand une porte est ouverte, il n’a plus moyen de faire marche arrière et mon corps le sent et le sait. Une petite part d’innocence s’envole et rapidement n’est plus. Et les larmes coulent. Et chaque larme versée est une petite mortde ce qui fut mais n’est plus, car j’accepte de grandir, de prendre la place qui est la mienne dans cette vie qui se dessine tous les jours avec un peu plus de clarté. Oh c’est sûr, il y a toujours une voix qui fait tout pour m’empêcher de grandir et elle a bien failli réussir, « n’y vas pas seule, les soirées vont être longues et un peu lugubre dans cette grande maison que tu as toujours connue pleine, en été… ». J’ai fini par succomber à cette voix et soumis l’invitation à deux amis, l’un après l’autre, mais elle n’a pas eu gain de cause, mes amis ne pouvaient venir !

Il devait être écrit quelque part dans l’univers que je devais faire ce pèlerinage seule… L’heure de laisser une partie de mon histoire derrière moi avait sans doute sonné !

Initiation to womanhood

Returning Home
Like the prodigal son
Finding new strength
Deep inside the womb’s safety

Seeing much loved old places
For the first time
Filling the breeze of old air
In new lungs

Feeling the roughness of old rocks
With the softness of new baby’s fingers
Tasting the freshness of old food
With new lips and tongue
Hearing the old music of the waves
Through new eardrums

Riding an elastic rubber band
Venturing to the “dangerous out there”
By following my instincts
Deep inside my core
Before
Rushing back to the “safety”
Of my thoughts
Locked inside my brain cortex
Out
A little further
Back
To recharge…

Steps of Initiation
Buckets of tears running down
Pain of letting go of the old
Fear and excitement of letting in the unknown

Steps of Initiation
Into a new age – letting go of my story

merci bon'-mam'

L'année avant la mort de Bonne-maman, j'avais le coeur serré chaque fois que je la quittais : "est-ce la dernière fois ?", "la reverrais-je ?" Et le miracle se reproduisait encore, et encore, et encore quand je prenais le temps de passer à Paris. Puis elle a finalement quitté ce monde humain et du visible début décembre. Mes larmes coulaient à flots sur mes joues chaudes et laissaient des cratères de sel le long des aisselles du nez quand je me disais: : "cette fois c'est fini, c'était la dernière fois".

Sur son lit, elle était petite, légèrement défigurée et son nez m'apparut immense dans son visage creusé mais paisible. Le personnel des pompes funèbres est arrivé pour l'installer dans son cerceuil. En quittant la chambre, les larmes coulaient quand je me disais : "cette fois c'est fini, c'était la dernière fois".

Elle m'apparut encore plus petite et encore plus frêle dans cette boîte en beau bois clair, un linceul portant ses initiales, la dernière demeure d'un corps qui avait fini par abandonner après de longues années de bons et loyaux services. Lorsque le policier en civil a scellé le cercueil, les larmes coulaient et je me disais : "cette fois c'est fini, c'était la dernière fois".

C'est honorée et aimée qu'elle entra dans l'église, portée sur les épaules fortes de ses fils et beaux-fils et les larmes de l'assemblée. Elle avait elle-même choisi les textes pour son propre départ, espérant sans doute qu'ils l'aident à s'envoler vraiment, à libérer son âme de cette réalité terrestre transitoire. On a ri d'entendre les souvenirs de ses enfants et petits-enfants, tous faisant allusion à la boîte à gâteaux et à bonbons de l'armoire du salon. Puis elle repartit dans l'autre sens, vers son dernier voyage, et les larmes coulaient et je me disais : "cette fois c'est fini, c'était la dernière fois".

Le soleil chaud du mois de décembre était présent à Port-Blanc pour l'inhumation. La descente du cercueil dans le caveau, où elle rejoignait son mari parti 10 ans plus tôt, a fait coulé les larmes et je me disais : "cette fois c'est fini, c'était la dernière fois".

Puis je suis allée me tremper et libérer mes poumons dans cette eau bretonne tant aimée. Ma tante M. m'a dit "ca ressemble à un baptême"... Ah, oui, tiens, je n'y avais pas pensé. Aujourd'hui, avec le recul, j'y vois non seulement un baptême, mais aussi une naissance. Le jour où bon'-mam' a été mise en terre est le jour où ma vie a été transformée. Une vie nouvelle s'est dessinée devant moi.

Comme si un voile s'était déchiré, révélant une réalité jusqu'à présent cachée
J'ai accepté de grandir et d'être initiée, de m'aimer toute entière, enfin,
J'ai accepté l'immense pouvoir qui m'a été donné d'être femme, de le vivre, de le dire, de le danser,
Je franchis une nouvelle ligne de départ chaque jour un peu différente et un peu pareille.

Je ne me suis jamais sentie aussi vivante, vibrante, aimante, présente, patiente, attentive, sensible...

Christmas Spirit

The last 24h have been a bit of a whirlwind of activities, sounds, connecting with people, making, chatting, laughing at jokes, eating... a lot happening outside and not much inner space.

Christmas' eve last night at 16 parents, siblings, in-laws, nephews and nieces, cousins and aunt
Christmas lunch today at 22, i.e. more siblings, in-laws and nieces

This Christmas spirit has left me tired and in need to retire and recharge my batteries... I feel that I have given an enormous amount of energy, shared a big part of myself - too big a part??? Not seeing them all very often, because I dance the 5Rhythms and because I am more than willing to talk about the kind of workshops I treat myself with, they ask questions of all sorts that are not always easy to answer. This year, I believe for the first time, I have had the chance to see and accept without guilt that I needed some inner space away from everyone else for a short while. And most importantly and most grateful for it, I have allowed myself to take this time away: I stop, sit down and write these words.

They helped me much for it as they all disappeared for an hour or so to an exhibition in town that I'd been to a couple of days ago. The silence, the music by Gabrielle Roth on the sound system, the returning home within... made me realise that I usually dive into the family energy and give without counting, without noticing... Can I call it giving? Maybe not. It may be more a matter of leaking away energy because I am not conscious of my needs.

And so I had gone from my body but I am pleased that this time it didn't take me another workshop, another psychotherapy session, another major crisis and many tears to find out and to re-discover the roots and anchor of my true being. This time, a few minutes of quietness, of having retired, of being alone and of checking inside what my needs are have allowed the feelings of being worthy and deeply engaged with myself to resurface. And the fact that this has happened in the family house is a gigantic and leap! It feels wonderful!!

I know I will give more in a minute as they have now come back but I have had this time for myself to check in, to thank myself... I am proud, I am pleased... I know there will be more allowing to happen to be able to remain in touch with my needs "at all times" and even in these big family reunions, but I can see this happening in the future.

-------------------------------

I went back to the buzzing energy of the group and sat down by the fire. One of my nephew, usually rather shy came to cuddled on my lap. It was a wonderful feeling of love and quiet. He stayed there for a long while and I loved every second of it as peace lingered on for a little longer... Thank you J.

for all our relations

that's the name of the workshop I've started tonight with a 4h 5Rhythms dance meditation... and tonight I really got involved in the meditation and saw the "full" spectrum of it... I gave back body parts then my entire body to the wise dancer inside myself... both overwhelming and beautiful!

my intention for this weekend is to shed a particular layer that i've been living with for 36 years: the coat of shame and guilt that surrounds being a fully sensual and sexual human being doubled/amplified with shame and guilt of being a woman... i chose to make this coat mine as a child through generations and generations of ancestors and I feel tonight that the time might be right to take it off... I'm not too sure of what I'll find underneath, what I look like as a naked woman - I am to create myself and find my own truth as I go along!!

I will be dancing with this intention for myself AND for all my relations... if you are reading these few words, I will be dancing for you, too... whether man or woman...

blessings and gratitude

abandonment

not talking about sport there as in sport, sometimes you've got to throw the towel. But the opponent "being abandoned" might not be delighted but at least happy to go through without a fight...

referring to life and not talking about the one giving up there but rather the one being abandoned and like in sport it can be that one who makes the next grade up. the one who gives up has to start it all over again it is like a failed attempt and each steps need to be climbed again.

I felt ready and find it difficult to accept that P. was not.

The positive thing is that I did all I could, I was myself, I opened my heart and gave what I could, what I was. He did give sometimes but in the end preferred to give up. It didn't work out.

The difficult thing now is to not close myself and my heart in a kind of "see, there's no point to open up as it doesn't help and it hurts more when it doesn't work". The pain throws me back in an ancient wound that I do not want to revisit but maybe the time is ripe for it whether I want it or not, whether I feel ready or not. something tells me I am ready.

whether it'll be another storm, another freak wave, I feel rooted and connected, I feel there is space within to live through and observe at the same time. I feel there is an invitation to step through the next level of the game - one I've never been before. it is just there, reachable but I'm not sure what the rules are. maybe I don't need to know them as there is someone to help me at the gate - I "just" need to trust her. my intention is to put my trust in her as she knows how.

Amour ? non, amourS !

J'avais toujours cru que l'on se DEVAIT de mettre une lettre majuscule à Amour, parce qu'il n'en existe qu'un seul de durable, de valable, de véritable, de sensible.
Et donc j'avais toujours cru et vécu que quand pour une raison ou une autre, cet Amour disparaît, est englouti, asséché, fatigué, détourné, trahi, abandonné, arrêté, c'est la vie entière qui s'écroule.

Je ne crois plus à cela. A partir d'aujourd'hui, je me DOIS d'écrire amourS au pluriel. Parce qu'il est possible d'aimer plusieurs personnes à la fois. Ces amourS sont différents, ils viennent combler des besoins distincts, ils viennent soigner des blessures variées, ils viennent aider à être plus complet, plus entier, plus vrai.

Il y a quelques mois j'ai reçu et accepté l'amour d'un homme, qui n'a rien de romantique. En sa présence je me sens connectée à lui et je me sens connectée à moi. Je le désire physiquement avec pour souhait de prendre et de donner du plaisir. En sa présence, j'ai découvert une nouvelle sensualité, une nouvelle manière de séduire et d'aimer ; j'ai découvert que je suis une être sexuée et que ma sexualité est une part importante de ma vie. Très importante. Bien plus que je ne l'avais imaginé.

Je viens de recevoir, et d'accepter l'amour d'un homme, qui n'a rien de romantique. Grâce à lui, ses yeux attentionés bleus océan posés sur les miens encore trop affairés et son sourire que j'entends me dire "il n'y a présentement personne d'autre au monde de plus important que toi", je me sens connectée au reste du monde. Je le désire physiquement avec pour souhait de fusionner, de ne plus exister qu'à travers lui, de n'être qu'un, de disparaître dans mon actuel paraître. C'est à la fois extraordinairement excitant et terrifiant.

Ce deuxième amour m'a fait peur car il venait remettre en question le premier. Et puis finalement, non. Pas du tout. En acceptant de laisser s'exprimer la déferlante d'émotions qui y sont rattachées, ce deuxième amour n'a fait que renforcer le premier. Mon coeur dans ma poitrine ne cesse de me rappeler que je suis VIVANTE.

disabled

My unconscious told me via a dream that I am a young disabled girl that needs special hard shoes to help her fragile and thin legs carry her body. In the same dream, my younger sister is helping open the shoes while all I can do is cry over my grand-mother dying and wishing to see me...



Something happened on Friday. I believe several things happened and two of them are pretty clear in my mind. Delays of various sorts, all making me late for my appointments with my analyst, had been coming back on a regular basis. They coincided with his latest move and he came up with some interesting theory - the dynamic had changed and I am resistant to it...

I told P. that I liked him more and more but hadn't got any hidden agenda for us, that I didn't know what I wanted for my future. His reaction was, "good, because I don't know if I'll be here or back home"... that hurt more than I expected, more than I wanted.

I am not surprised that exhaustion hit me as soon as Saturday morning, yet not preventing me to go to my good friends' birthday party or to meet P. on Sunday evening for a couple of hours in a park on the other side of London. Today's dream, though, shows that it is not simple exhaustion. It is terror of being hurt (again?), the terrifying prospect of having to grow up, of having to put up these shoes that would carry my body so that eventually I would get stronger and not need help to walk. The dream shows that my sister, my helpful shadow, is ready for it while I'm still turned to the past and mourning the death of a needy mother figure. I feel guilty about turning away from the image of the grand-mother in need, yet it also feels to me that the future lies in nurturing the disabled young girl within...
(Of course, these are dream images, I very much like my grand-mother, who is in real life slowly going away from our world and I go and see her as often as I can)

I am taking my disabled young girl into my dance class tonight with the intention of supporting her for as long as needed... I'm scared and excited...

So much more than a sex dream... (cont'd)

The beginning of the week has been hectic as I knew it would... but here I am again and continuing with my dream interpretation (to see the dream, see post below)

We are four women... number four, completion, whole and in the feminine!! It feels huge to me, never before has this happen. It is so exciting. Yes, one of them I don't know but hey! I'm on a journey of discovery... and we are being introduced anyway at a later time and therefore I feel it goes in the "right" direction.
Again, the masturbation is a first I believe and again it feels like a celebration and an acceptance of my femininity and of the fact that I am a sexual being. This unknown woman may well represent the cultural feminine lineage in which I grew up as I've got to hide the "culprit" before I am introduced to her. If she does represent this she would believe that human being is not an animal and can raise above the sexual instincts and needs, control them and separate reproduction from pleasure. So yes, I might be accepting my own sexuality but it seems only in hiding from her at this point in time, as if to avoid her wrath! But next, the "dirty", earthy, primal goddess joins me in the form of a petite black woman. The fact that she is petite may well be pointing out to me that she's got some growing to do. But she's a nice looking woman in the dream, she exists and I give her some sexual pleasure without guilt or shame. Am I starting tapping into this sexual energy of mine, after many many moons of repression?

These are exciting times and exciting contents that my unconscious brings up to consciousness.

So much more than a sex dream...

I woke up to a dream just under an hour ago and although I've had others of great interest, I want to talk about this one in particular.


"I meet with some friends at an evening conference in London and as it finishes my friend Stephanie (not her real name) asks that we go for a drink. I'm happy with that. To get back to the street, we must walk across a large store. My shoes and the floor are very smooth and I run and slide on my feet, then run again and slide again, making wide turns in between the racks of clothes. I watch them as I pass by and notice a couple of item and think I might come back to try them on. I'm having fun.
Then Stephanie says it was her birthday not that long ago. I'm shocked and hardly believe it when she says that the actual date is 21st Feb, as it is my birthday, too... We've known each other for a while and I had never known! What a coincidence! She says that'll she'll have a proper party at a later date as her girlfriend can't make it that night.

Then we are 4 women. One of us I don't know but somehow we are being introduced much later so that when it does happen, we've had time to know who the other was and she is my cousin's girlfriend. Just before we are introduced to one another, I was masturbating with a vibrator and I take it off and walk to my bedroom and slide it under my pillow. My flatmate Toni is busy hoovering the lounge and then his bedroom (we avoid each other as we get past). As I walk back toward the others, a black woman, petite in size, comes close to me. We hug each other and we walk together holding each other. I caress her back and kiss her head with tenderness. She likes it and responds positively. When we arrive in the room where the others are, she lies down on her front and I kneel next to her and continue caressing her, her lower back, her bum, the back of her legs, while also watching the other women who have only their underwear on. The black woman opens her legs and I bend closer and run my fingers in her pubic hair. I know I will slide my finger up her yoni next and she moans with pleasure. The other women are doing the same to each other. Then the black woman turns around on her back and I would like to lick her fanny."

I wanted to share that dream because it feels like a celebration the the feminine in general and an almost complete acceptance of feminine values. The dream starts in a rational, masculine and Logos setting with a conference - thinking as opposed to feeling! But it moves on quickly to having fun, being child-like in the store. I'm not quite ready to get those new clothes that I like and that would show a different me to the world but I will come back for them. It is only a matter of time now, or at least it seems.
My friend Stephanie's birthday is not on 21st Feb in real life. I believe my dream is telling me that it is time for me to integrate the part(s) of me that resemble her - research scientist and lesbian, that is combining both the masculine and the feminine world...

I will come back to the rest of the dream later today... or more realistically later in the week! I feel I have been given a real gift this morning and it is only the beginning of the week!! Is it not wonderful?

Women (4) - Standing up for oneself

He checks
Then double-checks.
What I do and don't do
What I say and don't say

Will be wrong
Will bring shame
Will awaken guilt.

But for the first time in my life
I shout
and scream

"Shut up you soul-eater
I'm not afraid
I don't owe you
Neither one nor two.
Get lost!"

And I am still alive and well...

Elle et moi

Pourquoi j'ai le cafard?
Je n'ai pas de nouvelles.
Pourquoi je broie du noir?
Je m'éloigne d'elle.

Elle c'est moi
et moi c'est elle.
Elle ne me connait pas
Je ne sais rien d'elle.

Elle est une étrangère
Je ne me reconnais plus.
Comme un bibelot sur une étagère
Qu'on a assez vu.

Que doit-on faire d'elle?
Je me sens mal.
Comment me rapprocher d'elle
Sans me faire encore plus de mal?

Rien ni personne ne m'arrête.
J'ai perdu toute ma confiance
En ce qui va apparaître
Et en ceux qui me font des avances.

Je tends les mains
A qui veut les prendre.
Elle espère que demain
Quelqu'un va l'entendre.

clairem --- 16 fév 1990
picture --- (The helpful shadow)

Who's that girl?

Who's that lovely girl
not feeling the sweet pain of longing?

Who's that sexy girl
not seing men as lovers or predators?

Who's that grounded girl
not getting lost in wild fantasies?

Who's that courageous girl
feeling safe looking at people in the eyes?

Who's that assertive girl
capable of changing her mind or crushing her principles?

Who's that confident girl
feeling home anywhere she goes?

Who's that vulnerable girl
giving an outer life to passing emotions?

Who's that artist girl
believing in her art?

She says she survived the long years of desertic conditions and witnessed
Climate change.
She says there is no way back.
At times storm-like, volcano-like or war-like
She invades, spreads, grows and takes over.

Women (3) - gathering strength

The cage won't be shut locked
Well-trained animals go wild again
The circus is dying
You're ready
to take off your clown's mask
show your face
be real

The cage won't be shut locked
The dogs have smelt one another
They're barking sheer strength
You're ready
to fight
stand up
be loud

The cage won't be shut locked
Boats depart in wild waters
The hurrican is racing to the finish line
You're ready
to go all the way
exist
be counted

The cage won't be shut locked
The moon appears on a sunny day
Rounded and full
You're ready
to give up the shame
make yourself proud
be a woman

clairem --- 28 Dec 2006

Women (2) - Nascent trust

Women as guides
in new landscapes

Women as mentors
in new teachings

Women as friends
in new discoveries

Women as allies
in new wisdom

Women as accomplices
in new spirits

Women as mirors
in awakened powers

Women ... Here I come

clairem --- 19 Nov 2006
(La venus endormie - Paul Devaux)