Just a tree on the street
Once there was a tree on the street
A woman was passing through one day and said
That tree is crooked
A man that was passing by stopped and said
You're right, that tree is crooked
The woman's son cried
Oh mommy! I'm scared! That tree is evil!
An old woman who was walking slowly with her cane
rested for a bit and said
It's not crooked, you're all turning your head at it
Last night I came back from Florida. I was reading at my place when I heard a woman and a man talking outside. They were talking about the odd woman in the pink house. How they couldn't sleep at night anymore because of all the weirdness that had been going on in the last days. Of how she is always on the phone and by herself. They sounded scared of her.
The woman in the pink house I assume, is me. Suddenly it hit me. I'm the odd person in a neighborhood that has been lately experiencing some minor burglaries and random events of weirdness. I have never been ordinary, never, ever. And I would have liked to say to my neighbor that I'm sorry she thinks that way of me, that all I can say is that I have never done anything I regret in my life, that I'm honest to the bone because both my parents taught me to be a good, hard working person. I have never been keen to justify my life to others because I have never had reasons to, but what strikes me as infuriating is the whole idea.
For now, I have been nothing but a lone, silent figure in my neighborhood. I have very few friends that I usually visit at their places but yes, for most of the time I'm working on my own, in my computer, doing my art and freelance work that no matter how scarce has been in the past months that has never led me to think that it's all right to look for things to appropriate. Before that obtuse idea, I chose to work in a construction site helping my friend (and myself) to tear down her house than ever going that route. I have work, I have clients here and abroad. I have support back home always, economically and emotional.
I'm so angry right now. To be perceived as an odd artist in the neighborhood is one thing but to presume I'm doing harm to others that's a different thing, specially when I have been nothing but a seeking for the good kind of person through all my life. Why would I go through all the effort of getting an O-Visa and then go about and harm myself? Why did they choose me? Because I ride a bike all the time? Because I haven't got a boyfriend because I haven't found a good man that sticks or because I want a good relationship and not a half-assed attempt of it? Because I have learned to be by myself and have harvested good relationships that have been organically growing and not forced out of lone despair? I don't drink that much and I don't do drugs. I exercise, constantly. I'm maybe planning to run a marathon. I do yoga occasionally. I'm healthy in and out.
I chose New Orleans for my stay because there's definitely no place like this on the face of the earth and I know this because I have traveled and lived abroad in other states and countries. The reason for my visa was to create more art work in a place that inspired me, I have an adventurous spirit and I never shy away from confrontation. But this time I'm powerless to explain this to others. I can't control what people think is odd or not. I did come here to be free to do stuff and now I've become afraid, not only for the external events that also keep me like other neighbors, awake at night but about the implications and the fragility one has over group misperceptions. Every time one person says those things and starts speculating, harms and spreads an idea that baffles me because it defies logic. It defies instinct and common sense.
And I'm not that strong. This minor event has just made me realize how fragile I am. I have an appointment for therapy today because I have to find a way that this doesn't cloud my logic, my common sense and my spirit. Once I have this straightened out, I might be able to make some decisions to whether I can even fathom the words: "leaving New Orleans" a thought that although had been going around I never really thought as a real possibility.
A woman was passing through one day and said
That tree is crooked
A man that was passing by stopped and said
You're right, that tree is crooked
The woman's son cried
Oh mommy! I'm scared! That tree is evil!
An old woman who was walking slowly with her cane
rested for a bit and said
It's not crooked, you're all turning your head at it
Last night I came back from Florida. I was reading at my place when I heard a woman and a man talking outside. They were talking about the odd woman in the pink house. How they couldn't sleep at night anymore because of all the weirdness that had been going on in the last days. Of how she is always on the phone and by herself. They sounded scared of her.
The woman in the pink house I assume, is me. Suddenly it hit me. I'm the odd person in a neighborhood that has been lately experiencing some minor burglaries and random events of weirdness. I have never been ordinary, never, ever. And I would have liked to say to my neighbor that I'm sorry she thinks that way of me, that all I can say is that I have never done anything I regret in my life, that I'm honest to the bone because both my parents taught me to be a good, hard working person. I have never been keen to justify my life to others because I have never had reasons to, but what strikes me as infuriating is the whole idea.
For now, I have been nothing but a lone, silent figure in my neighborhood. I have very few friends that I usually visit at their places but yes, for most of the time I'm working on my own, in my computer, doing my art and freelance work that no matter how scarce has been in the past months that has never led me to think that it's all right to look for things to appropriate. Before that obtuse idea, I chose to work in a construction site helping my friend (and myself) to tear down her house than ever going that route. I have work, I have clients here and abroad. I have support back home always, economically and emotional.
I'm so angry right now. To be perceived as an odd artist in the neighborhood is one thing but to presume I'm doing harm to others that's a different thing, specially when I have been nothing but a seeking for the good kind of person through all my life. Why would I go through all the effort of getting an O-Visa and then go about and harm myself? Why did they choose me? Because I ride a bike all the time? Because I haven't got a boyfriend because I haven't found a good man that sticks or because I want a good relationship and not a half-assed attempt of it? Because I have learned to be by myself and have harvested good relationships that have been organically growing and not forced out of lone despair? I don't drink that much and I don't do drugs. I exercise, constantly. I'm maybe planning to run a marathon. I do yoga occasionally. I'm healthy in and out.
I chose New Orleans for my stay because there's definitely no place like this on the face of the earth and I know this because I have traveled and lived abroad in other states and countries. The reason for my visa was to create more art work in a place that inspired me, I have an adventurous spirit and I never shy away from confrontation. But this time I'm powerless to explain this to others. I can't control what people think is odd or not. I did come here to be free to do stuff and now I've become afraid, not only for the external events that also keep me like other neighbors, awake at night but about the implications and the fragility one has over group misperceptions. Every time one person says those things and starts speculating, harms and spreads an idea that baffles me because it defies logic. It defies instinct and common sense.
And I'm not that strong. This minor event has just made me realize how fragile I am. I have an appointment for therapy today because I have to find a way that this doesn't cloud my logic, my common sense and my spirit. Once I have this straightened out, I might be able to make some decisions to whether I can even fathom the words: "leaving New Orleans" a thought that although had been going around I never really thought as a real possibility.
Oh and to my neighbor(s), I will be going to Colombia in three weeks. Another oddity. Go figure. My mother is organizing a Latin-American forum of File Management and she invited me to come along. She is a strong, independent woman that has taught me to be resilient even when things get hard. I hope I can be that too because I'm not used to running away from anything, specially when I have nothing to hide.
Comments
Post a Comment