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Eve Drewelowe's journals, volumes II-III, 1950s
Page 206
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a trough between two dancing wave peaks that I found myself. I dare to hope however, that I am not only clamboring out, but directly on the way very soon to bouncing a new high. This will minimize and equalize, in some degree, the former retrogression. As long as the action of my existence must be done by extremes, I may as well bounce the very limit - and likely shall hit the top in my painting. Even now I am anticipating many compositions that have formulated in my mind. Or better still than bouncing - which connotates a going up and a coming down with a bump - to sail the wind and keep above the clouds and clear of thunderheads. To sail as does a kite on its length of string. And so also we. We soar as high as our individual capacities - the dictations of our enclosures - permit. The rope is not attached to a kite so much to insure a happy landing, as a means of keeping it within its narrow limited confines - earthbound. What is apt to happen in the future? Will a defence mechanism be developed in order to wad off the unwanted an unsolicited interruptions? Can the hectic life be alleviated so that my mind will be at ease to paint and do what I must create. Protective coloration may be unsound psychologically but it is sound for me from the physiological point of me. For me there is not choice. I have long since come to the parting of the ways and I have elected the bypath of self-preservation from both the physical and the nervous system angles. The presence of a stomach may be a means of getting out of undesirable situations. Who knows? It could so easily be. I am afraid however, that the decision will not rest with me, for I shall never be able to have my stomach behind. Whatever the situation I know I shall never again be satisfied with ill-assorted odds and tag
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a trough between two dancing wave peaks that I found myself. I dare to hope however, that I am not only clamboring out, but directly on the way very soon to bouncing a new high. This will minimize and equalize, in some degree, the former retrogression. As long as the action of my existence must be done by extremes, I may as well bounce the very limit - and likely shall hit the top in my painting. Even now I am anticipating many compositions that have formulated in my mind. Or better still than bouncing - which connotates a going up and a coming down with a bump - to sail the wind and keep above the clouds and clear of thunderheads. To sail as does a kite on its length of string. And so also we. We soar as high as our individual capacities - the dictations of our enclosures - permit. The rope is not attached to a kite so much to insure a happy landing, as a means of keeping it within its narrow limited confines - earthbound. What is apt to happen in the future? Will a defence mechanism be developed in order to wad off the unwanted an unsolicited interruptions? Can the hectic life be alleviated so that my mind will be at ease to paint and do what I must create. Protective coloration may be unsound psychologically but it is sound for me from the physiological point of me. For me there is not choice. I have long since come to the parting of the ways and I have elected the bypath of self-preservation from both the physical and the nervous system angles. The presence of a stomach may be a means of getting out of undesirable situations. Who knows? It could so easily be. I am afraid however, that the decision will not rest with me, for I shall never be able to have my stomach behind. Whatever the situation I know I shall never again be satisfied with ill-assorted odds and tag
Iowa Women’s Lives: Letters and Diaries
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