Soul. Packaged.

This picture shows the part of me that I have hidden for a long time. Years I spent wrapped up in cardigans, putting more and more layers between myself and the world.  I had spent so long doing what society told me was the right thing, being the good girl, I had to spin to find my centre again. I think I have this in common with most women- that we wrap ourselves in bandages so tightly, we are not sure how to take them off, or even if we are supposed to. Our wounds of silence go on festering beneath until the only thing to do is unravel them, with the risk of unravelling ourselves. Our history as women is all about being binded up, staying small, keeping everything tight and tucked away into the shape of one fits all. Believe me when the bandages start to come off, not everybody waits to see the blood.

I was speaking to a dear friend of mine recently, a vibrant woman in her sixties. She said that she had buried herself so deeply, she was still digging through the earth to get to her core. Standing there at the graveside of her own truth looking down into the dark pit of earth still smothering her. One day she hopes that shovel will find her, she hopes to pull herself out, pulling herself inside out as she does. I cannot wait for that day, when the black of fear and disapproval and constraint is nothing more than a mound of soil laying at her feet, at our feet. Yet society would say, it is over for her.

 I am sick of the invisibility and discounting of women as they age.  Maybe I should hop in my coffin now, pull down the lid and lower myself into the ground, let nature take its course there. What is the other option? Staying above ground and have my value as a woman stripped away as my face falls to my feet.

Yes I keep talking about it, but I think I have to. Ladies we are dancing to the beat of someone else's drum, and the soles of our feet are burning....



  1. I just have been having the same thoughts all night.

  2. Yes, I think its something we as women need to address more.

  3. Beautiful Claire... love your words - thanks as always for sharing

    I'm so f**king cruel to myself - I catch my thoughts all the time "you don't deserve it" and I'm working really hard on dissembling that. But where the hell does it come from? Men just don't have the angst (as much, I'm guessing)...

  4. Yes we all do that Dee..I am still struggling with my right to be an artist- a female one that counts. I think men have the confidence that time does not run out for them.


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