This is a little girl with a story to tell. She lives inside an ugly, dirty yellow wall of fear. From behind this wall she sees a world full of anger and hate. She's crying because she knows this anger and hate also hide inside herself. She sees the reds and blacks of rage. This makes her more afraid because her own anger has been held in for so long. She is afraid if she lets it out, it will consume her. She's crying because it hurts to be so angry. She's crying because no one sees what she feels. No one sees her. She lives inside my head.
She has no mouth because she can't tell anyone about her anger. They wouldn't like her. They would say she was bad. She would be punished. She has no mouth because the screams are silent ones inside her head. She has no mouth to tell others about the abuse. They might not believe her and that would hurt more than the abuse.
She has no feet because she can't run away. Where would she go? She would die alone. She feels so helpless. All she ever wanted was someone to love her. All she ever wanted was to be herself. She would die alone because she is only 3 years old. Even at 11 years old, she still needs her mom and dad to take care of her.
I wrote the original story back on June 23, 1989 one month after I did an oil painting, my first, on feelings. I had read that art therapy was a good way to get in touch with your feelings. I wanted to know what it was like to feel. I had shut down that part of myself as a way to survive the incest when I was a child. After doing the painting, I still didn't feel anything. People that I shared the painting with said that the feelings were plain to see in the painting. I was still a few years away from reconnecting with my feelings but that painting and the words were my first steps in that direction.