Women In Art Magazine Apr 226 min readA flood of living water written by Eulalia D'Souza 16 spontaneous Love burst out of the orange She was so vibrant and so lovely She looked like the ladder climbing up to heavenly i’ve never been a spontaneous person but when i was a child i grew flowers out of hurtful and i would have done anything to break free from those manacles i let them cross my arms into diagonals rest my hands upon my shoulders submerge me under cold water they laid me like a corpse and i had one thought ~ i do ~ til death do us part you have to die to restart my purpose never seemed clearer Love like God Loves and find truth in the mirror unlimited unmotivated uncalculated unconditional if you Love like God Loves Love is a practice not just propositional. 18 it’s been two years since my baptismi’ve become more agnostic than christian i reflect on the world and i see crystals radiating so much wonder it lulls me out of sleep calls me to face the mysterium whom i seek the vibrant orange makes me think it’s impossible to define our experience so simply even trying is irresponsible in fact i’d go as far as to say that humans who assert one solitary way of describing divine wisdom are simply dumbfounded christians: insular intolerant exclusivists who are actually just scared and faithless. 19 more often than not i feel depressed and hopeless though there is sparkle i have to squint so hard to see it beyond the darknessthere is light at the end of the tunnel but the tunnel is never-ending and there is harm in pretending that the underground’s fertile soils do not nurture our deep rooted toils economic disparity social polarity because beauty got all chewed up by vanity and the world swallowed by vulgarity who spat on the ground absolute disregard for human life and made mud with the saliva then carved with a knife the grand palace of privation malice founded civilisation bricks of discrimination layers of exploitation the tower of babel: a mosaic of subordination colonisation terrorisation dictators’ domination and the war for world peace civilians’ search for liberty is a chase for mad geese we’re God’s sinners we cage inhabitants and make them prisoners we say we have no cruel intentions but watch idly as our cruel hegemonscontrol our neighbour’s expression and state lines through suppression: conversion ‘therapy’ and public funded military aggression some of us woke up in twenty-twenty but the glass seems to have always been half-empty i can trace Chaos back to the market crash of oh eight nine eleven the war on drugs the holocaust slavery if i were a creationist i could trace Chaos back to genesis.0 Beauty formed in a womb formless and empty, God smiled at her creation and called her Earth. Then God breathed life into a girl she made of dust, They walked together in the garden, alive with mirth. God created womankind in her own image, And God loved them so they acquired worth. But when reckless neglect wrecked her daughter, God deeply regretted ever giving birth. Sacred ground of sacred perfection, God saw All that she had made, and it was very good. But when God’s heart became deeply troubled, She told Noah to make an ark of cypress wood. God created humans in her own image, And then she destroyed them all with a flood.How else could she annihilate corruption, But use cold water to spill cold blood? 20 a Sorceress casting spells with chaos magic all Her designs were destined for dark and tragic perhaps Chaos is Order beyond our understanding but Loving the unlovable is a venture too demanding i search for eternal rest but i fear i will succumb to the self-interest of the careless and the disinterest of the numb we can’t be saved the human condition is wild and crazed we’re beyond redemption if you don’t believe me just pay attention single use plastics one-night stands love one another a forgotten command we forge friendships that never last bygones be bygones we tell history goodbye be gone to the past at funerals we’ll fly their flags at half mast then on the third day we’ll move on and recast our nets into the sea because there are plenty more fish we can eatwe’re consumers at heart we use and discard we view humans as parts reduce them to numbers and charts without a moment of hesitation we abuse humans as means to the end of our gratification we’re cold-blooded we pursue pleasure with our own hands we’re cold-blooded we turn wonders into wastelands we take and we break and we allocate rations we kill for the thrill and become slaves to our passions we bully and we burn and we turn a blind eye then we question how hitler could industrialise genocide wearing a dress drenched in ignorance we delicately embroider the threads of our innocence the theodicies we create to escape self-hate reveal who we are at our core i used to pray but i don’t know how to pray anymore i would start my one-way conversations with praise and grateful affirmations but my anchor lost its grip on gratitude and sinks in the quicksand of solitude if i praise God for giving me all the things i take for grantedthen i’m praising God for my neighbour’s status as branded privation exists because of man not God’s plan still the comfortable will say God wove adversity into the universe like corruption’s some beautiful curse how perverse! the truth is it’s all down to our chances and choices we recycle cruelty with our advances and voices to put it simply: humans fuck up every single day humans fuck up in every single way we choose ourselves over others all our sisters and brothers all our fathers and mothers die forgotten because we’re rotten we poison and pollute with a force so brute that maybe brute can only be annihilated with brute maybe brute is the seed for producing good fruit i yearn for a neighbourhood of givers not takers i yearn for a family of Lovers not haters with motivated Love i’d kill everyone but the elected few with motivated Love i’d wash this world of her iniquity and make her new yes it’s truesometimes i wish for a flood for God to meddle in our mess once again and make a new genesis from the mud i want to do everything i can to change this universe build a community of carers not consumers so i can stop prophesying the worst but ultimately i am just a small speck of dust and more than that i am hopeless everything i do feels completely meaningless i used to pray for the cruellest of monsters i used to see the good in everyone but i gave myself away to the monsters like icarus: i flew too close to the sun i’ll fold my arms into diagonals try to break free from these manacles but this violation’s terminal it’s turned me narrow-minded and cynical my neighbour’s not a murderer but she’s a complacent bystander who doesn’t even look the other way she meets your eyes and shrugs indifferent as long as she gets paid and it’s crazy because currency is some made up thing and yet it’s the only tangible reality to which we cling it’s what consumers need to feed their greed you can’t stop the flow of an internal bleed if i were a heroine what would it meanif i anointed with myrrh? would i cleanse the world or destroy her? would i be a savage or a saviour? would God commend my brave behaviour? if it caused our blemishes to perish would She cherish it? the cosmic battle between hope and bliss launched a lunar eclipse if you kissed my lips would you taste the bitterness? an image is a reflection of light and trauma: an infection of sight pain disconcerts the waves turns cribs into graves a violation of the highest degree why can’t you see? my antagonism is composed of shattered assumptions which means if this worldview belongs to the traumatised and blue do you think our unchangeable God has ptsd too? She should have been sectioned silenced and detained for Her mind’s maimed state and the apocalyptic risk She posed to herself and others all our sisters and brothers all our fathers and mothers everyone but the elected few like the deer who yearns for living water so my soul yearns for Youoh God i yearn to feel the silk petals when they glisten with the morning dew i yearn to see the 5am sunrise dance on the lake in pink hues in the name of spontaneous Love She will baptise my spirit with a deluge She will destroy and renew my dark and twisted worldview i’ll float on the water like a corpse nothing in my head but one thought i do.
written by Eulalia D'Souza 16 spontaneous Love burst out of the orange She was so vibrant and so lovely She looked like the ladder climbing up to heavenly i’ve never been a spontaneous person but when i was a child i grew flowers out of hurtful and i would have done anything to break free from those manacles i let them cross my arms into diagonals rest my hands upon my shoulders submerge me under cold water they laid me like a corpse and i had one thought ~ i do ~ til death do us part you have to die to restart my purpose never seemed clearer Love like God Loves and find truth in the mirror unlimited unmotivated uncalculated unconditional if you Love like God Loves Love is a practice not just propositional. 18 it’s been two years since my baptismi’ve become more agnostic than christian i reflect on the world and i see crystals radiating so much wonder it lulls me out of sleep calls me to face the mysterium whom i seek the vibrant orange makes me think it’s impossible to define our experience so simply even trying is irresponsible in fact i’d go as far as to say that humans who assert one solitary way of describing divine wisdom are simply dumbfounded christians: insular intolerant exclusivists who are actually just scared and faithless. 19 more often than not i feel depressed and hopeless though there is sparkle i have to squint so hard to see it beyond the darknessthere is light at the end of the tunnel but the tunnel is never-ending and there is harm in pretending that the underground’s fertile soils do not nurture our deep rooted toils economic disparity social polarity because beauty got all chewed up by vanity and the world swallowed by vulgarity who spat on the ground absolute disregard for human life and made mud with the saliva then carved with a knife the grand palace of privation malice founded civilisation bricks of discrimination layers of exploitation the tower of babel: a mosaic of subordination colonisation terrorisation dictators’ domination and the war for world peace civilians’ search for liberty is a chase for mad geese we’re God’s sinners we cage inhabitants and make them prisoners we say we have no cruel intentions but watch idly as our cruel hegemonscontrol our neighbour’s expression and state lines through suppression: conversion ‘therapy’ and public funded military aggression some of us woke up in twenty-twenty but the glass seems to have always been half-empty i can trace Chaos back to the market crash of oh eight nine eleven the war on drugs the holocaust slavery if i were a creationist i could trace Chaos back to genesis.0 Beauty formed in a womb formless and empty, God smiled at her creation and called her Earth. Then God breathed life into a girl she made of dust, They walked together in the garden, alive with mirth. God created womankind in her own image, And God loved them so they acquired worth. But when reckless neglect wrecked her daughter, God deeply regretted ever giving birth. Sacred ground of sacred perfection, God saw All that she had made, and it was very good. But when God’s heart became deeply troubled, She told Noah to make an ark of cypress wood. God created humans in her own image, And then she destroyed them all with a flood.How else could she annihilate corruption, But use cold water to spill cold blood? 20 a Sorceress casting spells with chaos magic all Her designs were destined for dark and tragic perhaps Chaos is Order beyond our understanding but Loving the unlovable is a venture too demanding i search for eternal rest but i fear i will succumb to the self-interest of the careless and the disinterest of the numb we can’t be saved the human condition is wild and crazed we’re beyond redemption if you don’t believe me just pay attention single use plastics one-night stands love one another a forgotten command we forge friendships that never last bygones be bygones we tell history goodbye be gone to the past at funerals we’ll fly their flags at half mast then on the third day we’ll move on and recast our nets into the sea because there are plenty more fish we can eatwe’re consumers at heart we use and discard we view humans as parts reduce them to numbers and charts without a moment of hesitation we abuse humans as means to the end of our gratification we’re cold-blooded we pursue pleasure with our own hands we’re cold-blooded we turn wonders into wastelands we take and we break and we allocate rations we kill for the thrill and become slaves to our passions we bully and we burn and we turn a blind eye then we question how hitler could industrialise genocide wearing a dress drenched in ignorance we delicately embroider the threads of our innocence the theodicies we create to escape self-hate reveal who we are at our core i used to pray but i don’t know how to pray anymore i would start my one-way conversations with praise and grateful affirmations but my anchor lost its grip on gratitude and sinks in the quicksand of solitude if i praise God for giving me all the things i take for grantedthen i’m praising God for my neighbour’s status as branded privation exists because of man not God’s plan still the comfortable will say God wove adversity into the universe like corruption’s some beautiful curse how perverse! the truth is it’s all down to our chances and choices we recycle cruelty with our advances and voices to put it simply: humans fuck up every single day humans fuck up in every single way we choose ourselves over others all our sisters and brothers all our fathers and mothers die forgotten because we’re rotten we poison and pollute with a force so brute that maybe brute can only be annihilated with brute maybe brute is the seed for producing good fruit i yearn for a neighbourhood of givers not takers i yearn for a family of Lovers not haters with motivated Love i’d kill everyone but the elected few with motivated Love i’d wash this world of her iniquity and make her new yes it’s truesometimes i wish for a flood for God to meddle in our mess once again and make a new genesis from the mud i want to do everything i can to change this universe build a community of carers not consumers so i can stop prophesying the worst but ultimately i am just a small speck of dust and more than that i am hopeless everything i do feels completely meaningless i used to pray for the cruellest of monsters i used to see the good in everyone but i gave myself away to the monsters like icarus: i flew too close to the sun i’ll fold my arms into diagonals try to break free from these manacles but this violation’s terminal it’s turned me narrow-minded and cynical my neighbour’s not a murderer but she’s a complacent bystander who doesn’t even look the other way she meets your eyes and shrugs indifferent as long as she gets paid and it’s crazy because currency is some made up thing and yet it’s the only tangible reality to which we cling it’s what consumers need to feed their greed you can’t stop the flow of an internal bleed if i were a heroine what would it meanif i anointed with myrrh? would i cleanse the world or destroy her? would i be a savage or a saviour? would God commend my brave behaviour? if it caused our blemishes to perish would She cherish it? the cosmic battle between hope and bliss launched a lunar eclipse if you kissed my lips would you taste the bitterness? an image is a reflection of light and trauma: an infection of sight pain disconcerts the waves turns cribs into graves a violation of the highest degree why can’t you see? my antagonism is composed of shattered assumptions which means if this worldview belongs to the traumatised and blue do you think our unchangeable God has ptsd too? She should have been sectioned silenced and detained for Her mind’s maimed state and the apocalyptic risk She posed to herself and others all our sisters and brothers all our fathers and mothers everyone but the elected few like the deer who yearns for living water so my soul yearns for Youoh God i yearn to feel the silk petals when they glisten with the morning dew i yearn to see the 5am sunrise dance on the lake in pink hues in the name of spontaneous Love She will baptise my spirit with a deluge She will destroy and renew my dark and twisted worldview i’ll float on the water like a corpse nothing in my head but one thought i do.
