Pricked: the Droplet Falls To the Sky

I was able to sit next to this woman while our school hosted a Body event, a reading of Eve Ensler’s Good Body in which she directed. It was unbelievably refreshing after a 2 days of facilitating a difficult and sweet conference.

When women speak honestly about their bodies, minds, and experiences my index finger is magically pricked, inducing a reflexive pulling back as I grasp my finger with my furrowed brows asking, protectively, inquisitions of why? And then I watch the slowly oozing droplet of blood emerge and the blood says, “yes you are alive and yes you are complicated and yes it’s ok and don’t pull away because this, is, true.”

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Filed under Anger, art, beauty, le regard, memento vivere, musica, ODD, poetry, politics, Psychology

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