The filth won.
Drove me from the city that makes me think of summer sun (despite the summer of rain I actually spent there).
Drove me from the work, briefly held, of making bears and throwing parties (I'd wished, not days before, that I didn't have to work... but was sad regardless to leave a job I enjoyed).
Drove me from my friends, those I left behind to fight the mould, the instability of workmen in and out, those I left behind whom I have known for years, whose presence drew me to that place to begin with (I see them rarely, even when living mere blocks away, but still, they were there).
Drove me from the kittens and cats, momentarily known, living in the sanctuary I'd helped in only once (and yet I loved them, from first sight).
Mother's lover drove me safely back to the black hole I swore I'd never return to.
My home town.
The home town that was never really home.
And, yet, I feel safe here. In the house I grew up in, with my family again (scattered though they seem to be).
The mould which menaced me in the kitchen of the place I escaped is left far behind, a fading memory.
The filth which gathered, moments after I had cleaned, (how he did it I'll never quite understand), is no longer something I must deal with.
And although firework noises echo through the single-glazed windows (I close the blind as someone runs past, these streets have become dangerous at night) it suits me better than not knowing which part of the house will be taken apart next, not knowing when the landlady will call to ask me a favour, or to vent confusion in my ear.
I came home for sanctuary for a night, prepared to return to the fray, not really knowing the weight that bowed my shoulders until I found my night of escape became home again.
Is it wrong that I ran away?
Was it running?
Or was it, instead, realising that I do not have to put up with less than what is good for me?
Knowing I have an alternative to breathing in spores and stressing about workmen?
I was lucky, I saw my escape and I took it.
I beat the filth.
I am going through a difficult period and have been painting Daisies to stay whole. The Soulcollage group inspired me to make this in response to where I am;

Strength Speaks; I am the one who fights for myself. I protect my own. I am strong and sensitive. I heal. I carve the demons from my flesh and let them dance until they transform, and then I swallow them. I am the Slayer.
(Also linked to this story)
As I built it I found myself drawn to pictures of mothers with children, human and lions. I was reminded of Buffy's modus operandi; to protect the world... i.e. those she loves. The comment on strength and sensitivity is an echo of something said to me, as though strength and sensitivity are strange partners... when this was said I was struck by how odd this idea is and endeavoured to remember it - strength and sensitivity are not irreconcilable. Strength is needed for healing. To a great degree this card reminds me of things I know, things I'm working on now, and suggests a way to move forward.
I made it in GIMP, using images I came across online. I made it the size of an ATC card as I'd like to print this out and they fit nicely in the deck sleeves I have for collectible card games, which'll keep them safe. Plus its a more transportable size that I've recently fallen in love with (they just feel good that small) and making these digitally doesn't limit me to a good size for making collages!
(X-posted to Soulcollaging)

Strength Speaks; I am the one who fights for myself. I protect my own. I am strong and sensitive. I heal. I carve the demons from my flesh and let them dance until they transform, and then I swallow them. I am the Slayer.
(Also linked to this story)
As I built it I found myself drawn to pictures of mothers with children, human and lions. I was reminded of Buffy's modus operandi; to protect the world... i.e. those she loves. The comment on strength and sensitivity is an echo of something said to me, as though strength and sensitivity are strange partners... when this was said I was struck by how odd this idea is and endeavoured to remember it - strength and sensitivity are not irreconcilable. Strength is needed for healing. To a great degree this card reminds me of things I know, things I'm working on now, and suggests a way to move forward.
I made it in GIMP, using images I came across online. I made it the size of an ATC card as I'd like to print this out and they fit nicely in the deck sleeves I have for collectible card games, which'll keep them safe. Plus its a more transportable size that I've recently fallen in love with (they just feel good that small) and making these digitally doesn't limit me to a good size for making collages!
(X-posted to Soulcollaging)