14 November 2010


Russ over at Inner and Outer Demons 2 granted me permission to use this illustration of "Inner Child". Thank you so very much, Russ. There's something that just grabs me, and I'm trying to figure just what that is.

It isn't the finger poked up her nose. Or the thick frames covering a third of her face. Or the jagged bowl cut, straight and heavy.

It could be the rounded soft body pooching the onesie. It could be the onesie itself {she rockZ it!}. It could be the lil feet, safely shod.

But I'm thinking it's more the vulnerable, wistful tuck of her chin. The eyes just peeking up and out beneath her bangs, thru the top of her glasses. The way her teeth are bared. Her jaw clenched tightly, steeling herself for whatever barrage comes next.

She makes me want to scoop her up, wrap her tightly in my arms, shield her from whatever cruelty awaits her, assure her that she's safe with me. And then I think about whether I'd really be able to give her safe haven. I didn't do such a great job with giving my own self safety.

Then again, who, as a child, ever has been able to do that? As a child, you cannot protect yourself from life's cruelties. You depend on others to do that for you.

And you should.

But safety is not an option for way too many. A tender poignancy reminds me of this. And then I turn away and move on, letting someone else deal with this, absolving myself of responsibility.

That's a shame.

Mercy me.

1 comment:

  1. Sometimes I would love to be a four yr. old in a onesie and have everybody feel obligated to protect me. SIGH


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