Iron Fist

Iron Fist. Acrylic on paper, 12 x 19,” 2010—

I have a metal fist that I have to remove before I lay down.
So as to not hurt anyone.
That is imperative.
Essential.

It was given to me by the 36 traders. I worked for once.
By my archer—that I survived.
It is something that needs to be disabled.
An iron fist.

His favorite movie was the Iron Giant.
I loved him like no other. No idea why.
I just filled in the blank space with my words.
To fill the blank space.

I write & draw, I always have & you two had no idea.
Is that possible? Not knowing.
Pure blindness.
Pure love is the closest sibling.

This should be a part of the writing.
But it's not.
It's all part of the same totality.
He told me to draw my writing.
That was all those years of work.

Draw what you write.
Said that to me. Just that.
It was all worth it.
All of it.

I am not sure you understand
how many hands probed me.

The woman from the association
had the tone of pity in her voice.

That was gone years ago, pity,
when I realized, came to know, that
marked is beyond perfect.

Beauty with a flaw is beyond your pity,
beyond your concept of what is perfect.
It is me.

My mother wrote me an email
saying to me that it must be difficult exposing
myself to others with the writing & the nudity.

But, what she doesn't say was that she was
embarrassed by it.

She said that "we'd all" be there for me
during the opening.

I wrote her back the difference between public and private,
and, that I am a professional. I've been doing this all my life.

This is not really what is going on for me.
Or, is it. And, this is just my profession, putting it out for you.
As a gift.

I has to explain these things overtime the family sees my
work, private & public. There is a difference.
Do you remember each time?

I just wanted to know why she was so adamantly opposed to
kindness. That was my question.
Just wanted to know why she opposed it.

Everyone has opinions. I'm just glad I don't anymore.