black hole sun

i will try again to write. i've been unable to get the words on the page. which is indicative more of my state of mind than anything. we artistic types, when we are stricken are down for more than just the count. we're (or i shall speak for myself alone), i'm overwhelmed by blackness. such was the case this week. it was a rough, rough week.

i had a friend encouraging me,

write about it suz. you've got to get that stuff out.

when it came out, it weren't pretty. it wasn't anything to be proud of. but it is a beginning.

i often feel bad for those who have to read me (or choose to), because the stuff i'm dealing with is so painful. i just wish i could spare the world. but some part of me thinks, this is what i'm supposed to do.

my friend asked me today,

how will you get through it?

i'll write my way through.

that is what i've done my entire life. i've written doorways and windows out of the pain by just saying,

this is what it is. it's not pretty. nothing to be proud of. it is pain. i understand pain. do you understand it?

and many people step up and say,

yes, i do.

friday night was the worst. i had fallen into shadow. plunged headlong. and could not find my way out. my way up. my poet friend met me, pain for pain, poem for poem.

that this is how i operate and there are other souls out there who can abide with me is such a blessing i can hardly utter it. that there are some who remain unafraid gives me strength. and hope.

i don't have any answers. i don't have any certainties. i don't have any happy words for you. while i'm down, i will not try to feign a smile. but i will be honest. that is what i do. that and write poetry.

here are the words i put down saturday morning. i'll let them trail off where they left me before. i've poems about these, but you must be a poet to read them. or call me and i'll read them to you. i'm in a place not fit for the marketplace. but perhaps my editor will find some way to get me out there. i certainly have no clue.

some thoughts from a book i'm reading come to me now (by Christine Downing),

Time spent in hades that is not spent trying desperately to get out also leads to the discovery of power and beauty of the dark moments in our life, the real confusions and desolations. Fear is so different when one does not have to fear fear but can simply fear; incompleteness and hurt are also different when one sees them not as something to get beyond but as something to live.

(i mentioned this passage to my friend today. she said,

baloney.

but these words still resonate with me. maybe words will come so i can explain why. maybe not.)

persephone's abduction was essential to her becoming. just as ariadne's desertion was essential. all ends well. we become who we are created to become.

the demon lover theme revisited in my readings of late, which mandated the fatal turn of events for Gretchen.