By Marsha de la O
What it was like to read those pages – the drunken
wagoneer in the act of beating his mare, body-self
with distressing dark streaks appearing
in my underwear – “Becoming a woman”— were
there three words I hated more – my mother, her doe eyes
so cloying I vowed she’d never touch me again,
leaning in close to say them. And the boy David
trailing me home, a throwback even then with
his sleek ducktail, carried that fat book, sweater
flapping my flanks, we were both short; I smelled
of blood, my heart bursting at the cruelty
of the world, the mare I was or wasn’t, gobbets,
gouts, in sticky webs pouring out the narrow
gate of womanhood — what was it like for you?
The Importance of Arts, Culture & The Creative Process
I feel personally that the arts, not just mine, saved my life. This project lifts up the individual and their creativity in a dark time. That helps all of us.
Tell us something about the natural world that you love and don’t wish to lose. What are your thoughts on the kind of world we are leaving for the next generation?
I love the California redwoods, the sequoias, the Sierra Nevada so much. I cannot bear that human carelessness and greed might take this magnificent beings from our world.
