I've had tangled feelings lately
Bout writing poetry, and otha
Bout talkin and dreamin with a
Special man (who says he need me)
Uh huh And my mouth has been
Most of the time but
I ain't been saying nothin but
Thinking about ev'rything
And the partial pain has been
How do I put myself in paper
The way I want to be or am and
Not like any one else in this
Black world but me
The more I read this the more I love its directness and sharp rythm- It was written by Carolyn Rodgers.
In the nest column the obituary is about a psychiatrist , James F. Masterson.
I stopped at this comment :
'The psychotherapy of personality disorders'...'is an attempt to put people back in touch with their real selves'
How much can we know our real selves?
How much can art connect us with our uncovered, undiscovered, hidden selves? Obviously, one doesn't have to have a personality disorder to have a sense that some part of their self is always out of reach.
The drawing is really an experiment.
I drew on frosted mylar and then I drew at the back of the same paper and then I drew on a white piece of watercolor paper placed behind the frosted layer. I love transparencies and layering and this opens up a whole range of possibilities. Hmmm....
Hope you had a fun weekend-