What if some days all I want is simplicity, calm; a humble life with a vegie garden and fruit trees, warm sweaters, hot cups of tea. Days when all I want is to walk alone on the damp earth, kissing it with my feet, letting the water droplets fall from the sky onto my skin. No makeup, hair on my arm pits, covering my legs in soft down. I embrace my body that is not big but not toned, my little tummy and aching abdomen, my striped thighs and dimpled butt. I embrace my crooked teeth and baby face, my tiny body that has held me for 24 years. I want wood fires in winter and nude gardening in spring. I want to see dirt under my fingernails and paint on my clothes. I want to push the city away from me in a single shove; arms bending inwards as it tries to push against me, and then using all my strength pushing it away, arms flying outwards from my body, stumbling from the force of it. I want silence and solitude and the sounds of nature. I want to paint and explore all day and have it be enough.
And then other days all I feel is the most intense desire to seek more. To wear lacy lingerie, or harnesses and collars, or dress like a cat and lick your body from top to bottom. Heavy black eyeliner and eyelashes, like feathers poking out from the biggest brown eyes. I want to be tied in rope and suspended, made to bleed and hurt. I want to be photographed all the time, to have every aspect of my life documented and made into art. I want to cry on camera, to make love, and dance on camera. Sometimes I just can’t stand my body that is not big but not toned, my little tummy and my dimpled butt. Sometimes I can’t stand my baby face and just want to look like other people who I see through the screen, even though I know, I really know, that comparison is the death of joy. Some days I want to be around people and be liked and accepted, part of the group, not feeling like the outsider, the wallflower.
I exist within polarities and somehow try and piece together who I am. Multitudes exist within my tiny body, my soul the size of the universe. I feel pushed and pulled by this relentless, complicated existence. But ultimately, I am all of these things and more. This is being human. This is enough.