Dog Bite
Realizing similarities
I’m in my feelings, the dog destroyed my wood art. Anger, yes I’m angry. But I’m hurt.
That dog watched me, watched me color. Watched me smile at my pieces. Watched me put it up when it begged for attention. Overheard conversations about how much I love my art. It watched me defend my tools from being attacked by its nose. It saw how angry I got when it got into the paint palette the first time. The painting box sat high up on the chair. I said “DONT TOUCH MY STUFF, I know you know what you doing!”
The dog saw what almost nobody sees. I left my art in a place that I thought was safe. I’d yell “PRIVACY” and she would back up slowly. I had stepped out, clicking all doors and she still destroyed my work. My heart…my pieces shredded to pieces on display. Literally scattered across the room floor, away from the original place. I walked in the room quiet, stunned. I scoffed at the display. I thought, “you tryna show me you are an artist too.” But it was too many pieces..she was angry. The bored she tore up the most was a flaming eye with a heart in the middle. Red, orange, yellow and white. On the back was pink with deep blue and purple colors. Exhaling the pressure even though it look like a smoke cloud. She was feeling things I couldn’t understand because she showed mercy to what I think are my best pieces. If she would’ve destroyed anything else in that room I think I would’ve had to have been carried away. Seriously like just wrap me up and good day.
I’m sitting here outside thinking I love art. Do it love me though? I didn’t get to take any pictures trying to mentally prepare for this event that’s coming up. I wasn’t expecting this. I was going to show it anyways, take pictures even though it’s a lot. It’s a lot I’m carrying… that I’m holding. I got over 59 pieces. I know it. It’s not even done yet. Just idea lines waiting to be fulfilled by me.
I snapped. I tried to let it go, say it’s okay but damn. The more I kept saying “ that’s f’d up”. I felt the same way I did when water destroyed my first wood set. I didn’t cry because I was able to save it but I was sad. Nobody would know it’s true beauty…what I made. When I created my Imher.Rose books with positive messages and I found my pages ripped alongside with the book tossed about in the park. I was sad but angry, hustle and flow type timing. I created something beautiful. Only my eyes witnessed the true essence of—about the past, those pieces…I loved them. The colors, the dimensions, the detail, my gift, the mistakes that only I knew was there…GONEEEE!! I’m really pissed because money can’t fix it. Money never fixed it. I had brought the wrong wood board sizes. But the story the boards held…it helped me to remember who, why I love even when it doesn’t reciprocate it back.
It was my fault because I know regardless nothing is meant to last …stay forever. Feels like it’s one sided. I feel betrayed now because the dog saw what people don’t get to see, it responded how many have over the years towards my creativity behind my back. Unprovoked.
I’m really contemplating putting it down..altogether, everything…art has kept my light on but I ain’t been home in so long I’m questioning what for instead of why. I cried. I screamed. I can’t afford to break a damn thing. I just went in my head. I didn’t hurt the dog. I just kept screaming in the kitchen. Talking loud. Feeling my body trying to take me outside of myself. Memories of my work flooded my eyes blankly, my time, my energy, my love…GONNNE. It hurt me. Yes my pieces were shredded but I didn’t think the dog would’ve did that. I’m thinking a human not an animal. This shit is tricky. I stepped to it with feelings but it don’t have bounds. And if I start acting like an animal… hahaha wild right ? I’m hurt not wounded so I’m going to finish what I started but as far as “anymore”… anything else ? Art gone have to show me some love fr. N I don’t mean the struggle bread crumbing kind. I want that Jah Cure- never find type ting. Chuuuu
