not a pretty picture. not a good. not a bad. picture. but an argument.

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

how we break upon each other




will i always hear it in my ear?  her small voice broken:
 yes, mommy.  yes, mommy.  i'm sorry, mommy.

how we break upon each other.

she has gentled herself, surrendered.

(in truth:  lost.)

we are all losing.

 yes, mommy.  i'm sorry, mommy.


i'm sorry, too, dear.  the sorriest, sorriest, sorriest.

it goes out from me in waves.  i am only a pebble.

 yes, mommy.  i'm sorry, mommy.


i am sorry too, dear.

it is a cruel hard life.

(it doesn't have to be.)


12 comments:

  1. Amazing portraits, Erin.
    Very beautiful, both of them.
    XXX

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  2. Erin you put me to shame, girl! Where have you been hiding all your portraits - LOVE these!

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  3. the conversation was a very important one, one which i do not want to forget. my daughter is incredibly spirited but as a spirited person great conflict resides in her. (i suppose, in many ways the apple doesn't fall far from the tree but perhaps my apple was a pear, only distantly related.) these important moments when we all break, we all lose AND we all win. vulnerability is so incredibly important. through it we know humility and the pain of living. through this i hope that empathy grows.

    xo
    erin

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  4. The first portrait is great ! :)

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  5. I love these portait too, and the words... you leave me breathless

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  6. ugh, that brokeness, from your own child. the spirited one falling, fear. we're always sorriest.

    that 2nd is wonderful. haunting + innocence. wildness submitting...

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  7. crying

    ~

    her eyebrows!!!


    the purity

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  8. Ohhhhhhhh! Hugs,and more hugs.

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  9. This is mindblowing Erin, words and portraits. Heartfelt, oh so very beautiful. You will always hear it i think, that's what i feel, i hear it all the time, sometimes as a whisper, sometimes as a scream. Now i'm going to hug my boys...
    xoxo

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"Words at the limit of hearing, attributable to no one, received in the conch of the ear like dew by a leaf." (philippe jaccottet) or even a quiet presence is appreciated))