Bleak Doll Painting of Zombie of doll of destruction of bleak landscape

Bleak Doll Acrylic Painting.

I wake from a night filled with dreams.  I dream of  a dog chained to a dog house, it is crying out for water and food, and yet it has a shining silver bowl and it his dog house is flooded with spring melt.  I drive by and then stop, opening my window and listening to it cry towards the house, yearning to be brought in.

Later I stop and yes the dog is still chained to the dog house.  I contemplate calling the humane society.  I get out of my car, I go to the friendly little pup, I pick it up and place it on dry ground to pee.  It is firm and clean and well fed.  I find myself wishing this dog were my dog.  It is just a charming lovely dog.  The house is nothing special, a salmon pink shingled ranch house, the light comes on not because the dog is barking but for its silence.  The front door opens, only a shadowy figure stands there.  A sleek, well groomed, ears clipped and bejeweled doberman bitch stands alert at the doorway.  The shadow retreats, the doberman does not bark as I get in my car and drive away.  I feel sorry for that pup chained to the dog house.  But she is not mine.

I wake, I am sobbing.

I dream that his father has cancer, and he cannot understand the blood chemistry.  I dream that the only person he wants to talk to about his father’s illness is me.  But he cannot.  I worry.  It feels like a prophetic dream.  And I feel sad.  I will never know.  He would never tell.

I dream that I am driving a route I have driven before, with a smaller car, with a car that maybe could do the hard parts better and fit in smaller spaces, but here I am driving the route again.  It is through a cemetery with a beautiful view, an historic cemetery, filled with angelic sculptures.  I am driving my new car, it does just fine on the rough terrain, it squeezes through the tight spaces.  And yet he stands over me judging, assessing.  I wake, I am annoyed.  Why do you haunt me now?  I haven’t thought of you in weeks, I haven’t dreamed of you or your bitch in months.

Once I painted a thing of beauty, arching bodies, brilliant colors, butterflies emerging from cocoons, and ugly things crawling from my head and women aching to be touched.  Now I draw dolls, and flattened women, and zombies, gargoyles and dark winged angels.  I have discovered darkness in this cemetery, and I find it comforting to know that you brought me here.  That dog you have chained to a flooded dog house, that you allow your bitch to keep you from?  She is a charming and lovely little thing, and you know she deserves more.  But you too a creature of darkness, which is why you hide.  In the shadows.  And haunt my dreams.

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5 comments on “

  1. If art reflects inner life–some sunshine is definitely in order.
    That aside.
    You’re really putting out quality writing, Meg. Dark but interesting to read. Merci.
    What a sad image!

  2. The person in the picture seems to want to speak, perhaps about her black eye, but her mouth is sewn shut. Your dreams sound like the difficult inner work triggered by a great loss.

  3. I need to write a piece about art being as much about the maker as the perceiver. Barbara I am obsessed the last year or so with Zombies. It all started with my beloved cousin, who informed me one day quite seriously that he had a supply of bullets, not just for hunting or target practice but just in case of the Zombie Apocalypse.

    The end of my marriage brought a great and previously unknown darkness to my art. Only it was me that did the hitting. I am ashamed to admit that when he was moving his things out I punched him more than once…mostly ineffectual girl hits to his chest. This is what is so dark to me. I swatted my daughter on her bottom less than 5 times in her life, I have never hit anyone for any reason that I can remember. But in that moment I was so engulfed in grief and rage that a darkness so deep overtook me. I have been examining that darkness ever sense. Why did I do that?

    It was my Zombie Apocalypse. My moment of the end of life as I knew it.

    • I’m so sorry… zombie apocalypse is an interesting reference I never heard of before. I hope you’re finding your way to brighter days, working through it with your art. It’s quite powerful…

  4. Really? Did we make it up? LOL. It is this notion that at some point some virus or ? will make people zombie like for real and that what is left will be humans struggling to survive against impossible odds. Like in the movie 28 Days Later or Zombieland. It is in some ways like the Black Death idea, 60-80% of the population gone, how would we survive? It is a notion that captures my imagination.

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