'I am a woman and an artist' I careless what society thinks.

Some years back, I couldn't imagine writing a woman's book. What would it be, except maybe a book about how to cook? How would I write something publishable that didn't center around a woman's desire to satisfy a man? Never! By the way, I am of the opinion that a woman can exist without a man, and I don't careless about what society got to say. I thought about the deconstructive elements of cartoons I watched when I was a kid. "The little mermaid" one of my favourite stories as a child. In it, the little Mermaid, who has no name, gives her tongue to a sea witch in return to gain an immortal soul so she could win the love of the prince. I watched the tale over and over, totally In love with the tearless suffering of the girls who has sacrificed all for the love of a man. Now I think it was a cruel story told by a chauvinistic man or a woman who never discovered her worth or maybe one willing to acquire money to pay off money owed. Why should the little Mermaid have to hang all her hopes for an immortal soul for the embrace of a handsome but an egoistic fellow. Why should she give up her art - for she looses the power not just of speech but of song, and she had the loveliest voice of all in the sea or on the earth". If she had her voice, she might have told him after a while that he was a vain and silly prince and she would rather keep her art to sing than go off with him. This I am aware of now. But there was a time when I would have cut my tongue out just to have a chance at the love of a man.

Emily Dickinson who happened to write some of the extraordinary poetry ever written by anyone, man or woman.  I have read thousands of poems she wrote but unwillingly to publish because she was defined by the puritanical 19th century mores of a small town In new england. This I disliked about her personality. She confined herself for 55years in her father's house either writing or going around doing kitchen chores. Why did Emily take up the decision to kill experience and slay herself into her art.  Did she realize that self denial brings about self assertion. Was she unable to be a poet and a woman at the same time. Or rather was she aware of the impending doom with art versus marriage. If Emily lived, I would have existed under her whims....for she attained greatness in silence.

To be a woman and an artist you have to suffer. I know this because I get to murder my nights being engulfed in syllables and sibilance and swirls of black against the white page. And as Nancy Mairs says I  have to write, if I avoid that mandate I wound up trying to kill myself. I write to dream, I write to thread in worlds my feet had never a glimpse. Through the excruciating pain I feel, I am aware that I would create great art. For out of excruciation springs arts.