I recently told my doctor that I felt like a vapour. Instantly annoyed, she was probably the wrong person to admit this to – the inevitability of my irrelevance. The disturbing sensation of being two people at once. The fierce woman inwards – becoming a crone outwards. Increasingly invisible. I am caressed less. Spoken to less. There is no prescription for that. Left to myself, I take my vaporous existence and descend into a dark rainforest trail along the windswept rocky coast of East Sooke. It’s eerily quiet at first, only the loud plopping of heavy raindrops dripping from the needles of tall Fir trees onto the toes of my muddy boots, the brim of my hat. Then out of the quiet mist musical, gurgling croaks can be heard – the unmistakable and opinionated ramblings of curious ravens. I walk and they follow and talk. They have a lot to say to me on these morning walks we take together. This is their territory after all and their calls reflect this possessiveness. Have they become possessive of me too… am I theirs?
Hello In There
36"x48" acrylic on canvas