Seeing me, seeing her, seeing me. 

Scarred from sun damage and surgery….scarred in fact all over her body.

Down the left side….shoulder, arm, hip….long healed, deep scar tissue from that car accident so long ago, the facial scarring there for all to see, skin cancer and surgery leaving her perfectly symmetrical face, forever changed.

Years of inner suffering because of it….her damaged, fucked up face.

She works on it with soft pencils, an Artist correcting a portrait out of sync.

Draws on it, inwardly scolding her mirror image….

“Foolish old woman, why bother with all this”;  yet her sense of balance wins over every time. “Why not bother?” This scarring has caused so….much….suffering!!!  And so, to go forth into a harsh  and critical world , she arms herself with her Artistic skills….for confidence, maybe even power.

War paint, they call it, and maybe she does indeed go to war each day, battling loss of youth, loss of face, loss of self esteem. It is no small thing, she knows, to face the world alone. And so, she “puts on her best face” and walks out the door….and still, despite everything, “Will she see him today?”  And again “Foolish old woman”, and yet that pulse beats, deep in her belly and she is helpless to change a thing.

“He is so young, no more than mid 30’s”, and so, against the constant pull towards him, she  tries to avoid him.