Dirty Laundry

Are you a young woman on an emotional rollercoaster ride peeling back the bark, kneeling at the foot of the tree clawing at the dirt to expose roots to light. No matter how deep you dig you you can't undo the work of the seed and elements. You may as well bury all you need at the foot, draw a line, a big circle around the circumference of the foilage and place a sign saying all this is mine. Each leaf  a memory, the pattern in the leaf is the fabric of a weave displaying intricacies and deceptions I wove in order to survive, and grow. Here I stand, lovers names carved along my spine, an old rope hung from a bough the fallen tyre over there a reminder of my journey, the flattened grass over there reminds me of the lovers I sheltered when they had no other shelter from storm. There is much character to this tree, faith in the sun rising, moon pulling tide and bringing rain, what is the purpose of questioning anything that has already proven its worth except to share the art of seed, root and glorious blossom. the tree , your tree will grow toward the light no matter how hard you try to obscure through mask, choice of lens (think Joyce and his Rose coloured shades) and that is a blessing. My area of interest is how much control do we really have, what the f is free will if we did all this stuff that leads us to question who and what we are. You even label yourself as a female sexual deviant but I only see an honest and remarkable artist and woman. Does the label fit or is it a mask in itself, if it is a mask does it deter or encourage progress in your art. Missy Jubilee an honest account of my growth into a sex happy woman with some societally imposed guilt inherited through the desire to conform to a flaccid world. Who the heck are you Missy? A road with never ending horizon I wager,the kinda ride I like