They Long to Become Visible Again

They Long to 

Become Visible Again

written by me 

@RISE

in the company of some excellent people...

We paint ourselves in all shades of red,

Wishing to look more like what we know we are on the inside...

The more red we get,

The more transparent we become to one another

And that, say some of us,

is liberation.

Others, we paint ourselves blue, as skies, as we aspire to be,

Higher than we are, the peaks of our potential we have not yet met,

or blue as lakes, or the oceans of all that we hide.

Perhaps not so much hidden

As curated, like we were workers in a colonial museum of ourselves, with Rooms that hold the sum total of all of our diverse identities and life's experiences,

of sounds and smells and languages we refuse to forget,

But that others only politely nod at.

Smile at,

As if they could ever really understand.

I paint myself each morning when I wake up.

Paint myself with water and hair cream

Paint myself with fabric relevant for temperamental Melbourne weather

I have painted underneath my skins with needles and ink

Not only because I have had something to prove,

But because this is what culture is!

Alive, to each moment, unfolding in my body as it meets yours and yours and his and hers

In schools, at work, on public transport

We wear ourselves painted and read one another like scripts.

Culture is inquiry and celebration,

Or despondency, procrastination,

A yearning for saviours, or a game for a messiah complex

seeking desperate players

All of this needs to be loved and cherished and humbly released

Each night again, we go naked unto ourselves

Each night, I go naked, again, unto myself

Each morning, I get up again, to paint.