Tuesday, January 21, 2014

Red

(Bullfight III by Pablo Picasso)


Still that naked child inside 
squeezing her eyes,
striving only
to please.

My first memory in life?
A time where I did not.

But the future sways
like the matador's cape
in Hemingway's hands
or Picasso's brush

calling me out
with every flash
and snap

of passion,
shame
and sacrifice.

 

6 comments:

the walking man said...

Passion, shame, sacrifice...Oh Sarah my dear friend...you DO NOT need therapy. Just a little cubism drawn by Hemingway. A slight bit of insanity to go with your morning saneness.

Charles Gramlich said...

Lovely piece. Evocative for sure.

Sarah Hina said...

Mark, that's exactly it. And that's what writing is to me. Sometimes I worry that I come across as a total depressive on this blog. When it's only a moment captured. That moment is my therapy.

Thanks, you. :)


Charles, I appreciate your reading here, always.

Aniket Thakkar said...

You know well I started blogging to pour out all my depression onto others.

It's not like we're paying you to read this (though we should be), so you don't have to worry.

We will be paying (happily so) to read your next book, and I understand that no matter how indifferent or "cool" you may want to come across, there will be some desire to please your readers. As an author, you can't let go of it. But focus not on the cape, but on Hemingway and how cool he looks with the cape (I thought you'd go with Gogh over Picasso, but whoever floats your boat :P), and storm through.

There will always be haters. And there will always be lovers. And there will always be loyal friends.


P.S.: Ever since I read the title I've been humming the song -
"Red.
Eyes and fire and signs
I'm taken by a nursery rhyme
I want to make a ray of sunshine
and never leave home"

Thanks for the earworm.

P.P.S: My brother gave me big talk on how, aniquez.com feels childish, and self centered, and just way too corny, and no one types it right, ever, and all shebang. So I've moved back to writeorama.com Hopefully I'll stay there.

P.P.P.S: Good on you to enable the comments again. Allons-y alonso!

Sarah Hina said...

Aniket, sometimes it's hard to break the old childhood constructs, even though you know how damaging they are. In the end, I guess that's what art's about: mining the doubts and insecurities for some kind of connection to the world outside.

And hey! Tell your brother to lighten up. Aniquez 4 ever!!!

Sorry it took me so long to read your NEW. Now, of course, I have an ear worm.

Make new friends
but keep the old
One is silver
and the other's gold.

Aniquez de los mil luces=GOLD. :)

Aniket Thakkar said...

:)

He's just trying to watch out for me, but he doesn't know the stories behind Aniquez, Heena, Jenny, Puck, etc...

You have to have lived in the cuckoo's nest to get all that.