Faces of the Dead
The past few days whizzed right past. Gardening. Art. Alanna. Parties. PMS.
I say PMS because it puts me into another zone. It has its disadvantages and advantages; trying to navigate it is a challenge. I am often best off doing things on my own or by myself so that I spare others my dark side which borderlines on manic.
This morning I was in a bit of a funk but I figured out how to let go of my anger quickly-precisely 1/2 a block. As I was letting go of my frustrations, I drove past a man that looked like my ex brother in law who died of lung cancer a few years ago. His face, his essence, perhaps not his body, but it took my breath away.
I have had this happen several times. My friend Mary who has come to me via a few different people, my father, and my ex husband and son, both of whom are alive, but in some ways are ghosts in my life. Each time this happens I feel time, place, and reality slip away and for a brief moment I exist in a very surreal state.
Some of you may have had this happen, perhaps all of you. I hope someone has, otherwise there is something is very odd about how I think and perceive things. But then again, perhaps it is not so odd...
About the art: What I found really interesting was that I knew exactly which collage I was going to use and what I was going to do to it to make it work for tonight's blog. I decided to crop part of a larger piece and blur the face. Larry looked at t he piece and asked if it was my son's face. It wasn't, but the spirit of the person looking back at my was my child. And it was weird.
Isn't the subconscious amazing?