"I gaze across the ceiling and along the walls, trying to pick out every shade, every hint. And there, opposite the bed I spot my wedding dress which—now I recall—I’ve hung on the coat rack, right there in the corner.
The corner of the bedroom is the only place here which I reckon is truly mine. Strange, no? I still feel that way, despite having slept here with him, on and off, for like, the past ten years. I keep telling myself that I must claim this space, claim it as mine, right away. And maybe I will one day, when the baby’s born.
The corner of the bedroom is the only place here which I reckon is truly mine. Strange, no? I still feel that way, despite having slept here with him, on and off, for like, the past ten years. I keep telling myself that I must claim this space, claim it as mine, right away. And maybe I will one day, when the baby’s born.
Staring at that corner I know one thing, and I know it real clear, at once: this lovely dress, made of heavy satin and trimmed with lace and beading and what not, which I’ve dyed, the morning after the wedding, orange at the top and purple at the bottom, so it can still be used in the future—like, at dances and parties and stuff—this dress isn’t gonna to fit me no more.
Up to now I’ve pictured it in my head, shining awful brilliant, just like a rainbow, and swirling all around me; and with every step, billowing between my legs, and like, making me adorable, so adorable in Lenny’s eyes—but now that I touch my belly and feel the beginning, the very beginning of change, right here around my waist, what’s the point of all that."
This is my charcoal drawing titled The Wedding Dress, inspired by a wedding dress that a friend of mine inherited from her mother. In it I contrast the loveliness of the dress, and all the dreams it invokes, with the nakedness of the figure, who at this point is left without illusions.
★ Love reading? Treat yourself to a family drama ★
Volume I & II, woven together:
“The attention to detail showcases the smooth pen of the author”
Your picture and your words bring back memories. My Mum let me try on her wedding dress and there was no way it would fit. She was a bride soon after the war, and so thin! Don't suppose mine would fit me now either.
ReplyDeleteYes Sheila, there is such beauty in those old dresses! No wonder they bring back such poignant memories.
DeleteUvi this and all of your stories carry such a personal touch, I love to read your works!! Love victoria marie pecsenye
ReplyDeleteAw, thank you so much Victoria! And I truly appreciate your help and support through sharing my posts.
DeleteTruly amazing blog, writing, and art. Loved all of it. Would love you to pay me a visit http://melissafrybeasley.wordpress.com/
ReplyDeleteLoved your poems, very endearing--especially Poem to my Grandmother! And the colors and feel of your website are so soft, so pleasant! Thank you for inviting me to come in, Melissa.
ReplyDeleteLovely, both the writing and the sketching. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much Susan!
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