“The Artist is no other than [s]he who unlearns what [s]he has learned, in order to know [her]himself.”
-E.E. Cummings
The longer I write, create anything, the more I get this on a level so profound it hurts; and it hurts so good that at some point it stops hurting, and serves to validate, that, which I have always known, self.
The less I care about what you or anyone think, of anything I create, written or otherwise, the more I unlearn about all you and they have inured me with: false concepts and ideas, of who and how to be.
The more I unlearn about these things you have gifted me with, the less I need your, and their validation for my art; or anything, pertaining to me, any little thing at all.
And the less I need your validation, the more forth-rightly I can inform you, when you have mis-read me, again, and care little, if at all, about what you do with that. This is a freedom, an intelligence of self, I have not known, here-to-fore.
~Marcela.
February 26, 2019.
Posted by ~MyLa | Filed under Poetry, Unfettered
She, Valkyrie
cradles tattered remnants
a slaughtered spirit,
in her intrepid care.
Goddess vision
greets wounded gaze
and I beseech her,
to choose life,
for an oft wounded,
heart.
To Valhalla
for mead,
and her.
Salve
for the psyche,
soul and flesh,
of gods mythical,
and mortal,
and their concubines.
~Marcela: beautifully lost, in a real-time myth, of my own creation.
February 18, 2017
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