Spilt Milk, pastel, 30×22 in., originally uploaded by ahtravis.
Been trying to think how to respond to your powerfully moving new work, which seems full and overfull of truth and sorrow. Then on NPR’s Fresh Air caught a tribute to the late South African poet and activist Dennis Brutus, who wrote:
Somehow we survive
and tenderness, frustrated, does not wither.
Investigating searchlights rake
our naked unprotected contours. . . .
boots club the peeling door.
But somehow we survive
severance, deprivation, loss.
Patrols uncoil along the asphalt dark
hissing their menace to our lives,
most cruel, all our land is scarred with terror,
rendered unlovely and unlovable;
sundered are we and all our passionate surrender
but somehow tenderness survives.
Alix, in your rage I see tenderness.
Thank you for these powerful words, words so much stronger because they come from experience while I can only imagine.
I have added a link to the NPR interview of Brutus by Terry Gross.
we survive, and yet we are changed, and at what loss..?
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