EvenStrongerNow
Diamond Member
Last night, I was thinking about another picture if I could paint it about trauma and moving through it. When it first took hold of me, I would paint a coffin deep down underground miles and miles. A woman would be in the coffin. Over time, in other pictures, I would paint other things I haven't decided on. Then, she would eventually receive a match. The process would unfold through time and eventually the hole would be uncovered. Then, one nail would come out of the coffin, etc.
When she breaks free of the coffin, there would be a light above, but she will have to climb for miles and miles and miles. It will feel like forever. Some days, a flood will come and knock her back down again. Other days, a storm will come and push the dirt back in the hole.
When she does finally get to the top, the tombstone would say something to represent her journey. I haven't decided that yet. Every now and again, she would jump inside the hole and lay in the coffin covering herself with dirt to represent a catch 22: the coffin was unconsciously comforting but not so consciously. When she gets scared and is hurting, she will jump back in it for awhile.
And cry. Each time, she will climb out again, but each time, the process will happen faster and faster. One day, there will be some rocks she can hold onto in order to get to the top. Other days, there might be a rope to climb. Some days, there might be hands carrying her up the miry clay and dirt.
I meditate upon the day when she will climb out and stay out permanently, fill in the hole, smash the tombstone and carry a piece with her while giving some to each person she meets who resides in that same coffin that she once did.
When she breaks free of the coffin, there would be a light above, but she will have to climb for miles and miles and miles. It will feel like forever. Some days, a flood will come and knock her back down again. Other days, a storm will come and push the dirt back in the hole.
When she does finally get to the top, the tombstone would say something to represent her journey. I haven't decided that yet. Every now and again, she would jump inside the hole and lay in the coffin covering herself with dirt to represent a catch 22: the coffin was unconsciously comforting but not so consciously. When she gets scared and is hurting, she will jump back in it for awhile.
And cry. Each time, she will climb out again, but each time, the process will happen faster and faster. One day, there will be some rocks she can hold onto in order to get to the top. Other days, there might be a rope to climb. Some days, there might be hands carrying her up the miry clay and dirt.
I meditate upon the day when she will climb out and stay out permanently, fill in the hole, smash the tombstone and carry a piece with her while giving some to each person she meets who resides in that same coffin that she once did.
