Alexandre-Gabriel Decamps, Painting 1848 – oil on Canvas
They say just let go, just let go, you don’t understand, letting go meant your tender new born wings would flap & flap & flap in the wind, pushed out of the nest way before you were ready to fly, but you took to the sky your spirit flying high, looking down from above, hoping searching for that one love that would bring you back to earth. But you don’t understand, having to let go before you are ready to let go, scars the soul, you step timidly into the unknown, stumbling, fumbling, bumbling through, my mama died when I was 15 years old, I wasn’t ready to let go, a month later daddy went crazy, got drunk beat his daughters, daddy went to jail, I wasn’t ready to let go, had to move out of my home one month later, I wasn’t ready to let go, had to leave my high school in the 11th grade, leave all my friends, I wasn’t ready to let go, my brother died 3 months after mama died, I wasn’t ready to let go. I’ve had to let go of such much, that sometimes letting go rips me into a billion pieces.
and yet I know I must let go for I know in those billion pieces are
parts of me scattered to the wild winds. Through this painting pilgrimage, I am calling these pieces back home, I am calling my soul back home. She has wandered in the wilderness for a long long time. Twigs, moss in her hair, bones tied around her neck, animal skin for her clothing, she is wild, she is lonely, she returns with a goat skin bag tied around her waist, she has gathered her medicine, she has gathered herself, she has returned to the warm fires of hearth and home, she has returned. She has let go!