Salirophiliac He(art)

I've wanted to press the "delete" key.
I've wanted to send my novels through the shredder.
...Fruitless Frustration...
...Painful Potential...
Would become void if I just gave up the ghost of my gift.

I never had the gall, balls or guts to destroy what was sacred.

She does.

     She wets...burns...pisses on her art. By capturing the destruction of her innermost thoughts, she reveals the sacred art of surrender.  Watching her words waste away under the running faucet...Witnessing the paper collapsing beneath a stream of urine...Burning the pages to her journal, we can take note of what really happens to a dream deferred. 




A new collection is coming soon...

To visit her blog:

3 comments:

TICKLEBEAR said...

fascinating post.
to let go and raise from the ashes,
all brand new. the past erased by frustration, shame or self-censoreship... me, i just store my writings away, to be forgotten about.
:)~
HUGZ

Forbidden Light said...

@Mr. Bear: You're always spot-on! What I found interesting: she also forgot/repressed some of the things she wrote about... But when she read it, the emotions instantly resurfaced. Meaning, although forgotten, dreams/desires/fears/experiences are still in there somewhere...

TICKLEBEAR said...

as much as one tries/needs to reinvent oneself, one has to contend with the soil he grew from. can't change that. can't brush it all off...

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