for whatever reason this is one of my personal favorites, of all the paintings i've done so far.

got some comments! gee that's a nice validation; someone somewhere, reads, appreciates. of course i read and appreciate substantially more than i comment on, and i assume that is true of many.

there's stuff i want to write about. Grief, and the cost of grief. It is time to get back to work. Becoming a cat lady. I blame bekah's killer. She disabled me. i am still pissed off at her, actively pissed. PISSED OFF

me, at bekah's shrine one or two days after she was murdered in front of that tree...her shoes were close to the tree, her blood about a 100 yards down the road, in the median....



SO I'm formulating some kind of thesis in my little pea brain: something about the difference between the victim and the victim mentality. i was not allowed to choose whether i would be a victim. [did bekah choose to be murdered? i think not] But i have decided not to embody the victim mentality. No one but another victim can appreciate how fucking hard it is to stave off the bitterness. Does anyone else spend inordinate amounts of time fantasizing testifying to the face of the so-called person who murdered her daughter, driving it home, home, home, making her know...

giving her a clue. of just how costly that worst of crimes is.

i assume this propensity to purple i've been experiencing lately is related to the anger. anyhow!

i have decided that i will foster the mentality of a winner, a success, a human complete in spite of her death blows. it is just so fucking hard. next thing you know, i'm looking around, i'm looking up at the wall, and it has been more than a year since the last time i hugged my girl or heard her laugh. how can that be?

then shake my head, shake my heart, wipe away the tears, and swear, she cannot have me. not me, or john, andy, rory, denise, micah, tyler. no she cannot goddamit. goddam her.
- posted by barbara @ 10/07/2002 09:00:00 PM