Back in the Studio Again.

It had been a slow come down...
A falling off of days...one by one
A slipping away....
Until now
I had not the energy to build it up anew..

Better to move on ...
Back to the old smell of turps
The stink of oils...the paint smeared clothes...blunted nails and...
The lugging here and there

The music loud and low..... close to
Sobbing with Mendelssohn’s violins ...Maria Callas...Casta Diva ..
Billie’s Strange Fruit Hanging from the Poplar Tree
And ...
I Loves You TOO Porgy ,* Don’t let him handle me....
It could seem like dying*.

The cobwebs and the creaking door
The brushes coming out of rehab...
The Dead Insect floor..Spiders darting here and there

As I put the brush to board...the memories
Like molten lead...Burning Pain. Memories .and all the dark gloom ...
You had shot me the venom of a skinless asp
I drew you You in Motel 6.. the portrait...still hangs up on the pock marked wall.
Next to Alice with her Looking Glass. You did not like her arm.
Remember ?

My sister was dying...*O Rose thou art Sick*....
Unfinished, unresolved
Random.

But....I had to return to Aisha...poor poor Aisha... my young friend in waiting.
My kindest thoughts...again. My heartfelt thoughts....to you...to you...
To Aisha.
.... and the paint the paint
A pristine board...will anything unfold beneath the busy brush ?

Kristine Byrne 16th sept...2010