Keep Art Alive :: Art by Bente Schlick
“Touch my hand,
it’s only me, listen;
Come to stand,
in sultry fields,
The sun outside Louise’s kitchen window trickles in through the closed blinds, and a cool breeze sneaks in because the apartments, they are full of leaks and holes. The music swirls around the room and she feels both light and heavy, all at once. It is hard to quell the desires that were so recently awakened, only to be forced closed again.
She has a lot of everything to give, to feel, to experience. Perhaps there are things on the horizon, and her eyes and ears, and her heart are so bruised and cracked at the moment, just like the blinds, Louise things. Only a bit of hope comes through, but is it enough to keep her going? Can she allow herself to open up this much ever again?
She’d like to think so. She longs to believe. Louise stand there wistful, wanting to see in the early morning distance the possibilities of living and experiencing more than just the plots that traipse around her imagination, more than her handwritten journal pages allow. She loves the characters created, but they can not hold her through the cold, cold night.
It would all be a pack of lies if she did not wish it was him, but she knows, she knows, oh how she knows. Sometimes though, the feelings they linger, and her heart meanders back to early mornings when they were entwined together. We cannot help how we feel, or what we remember, she reminds herself. She knows, she knows, oh how she knows.
Louise fingers the controls, gently touching, until she lands on something to soothe her. Bristol trip hop does it, stealing her soul, albeit temporarily, exquistly, Alone in her sun-streaked kitchen, she sways.