Church was good, but when I left I felt oddly lost. It was like I had dropped all the psychic stuff I’ve been processing. When I got home I didn’t know what to do. Finally I had lunch, did a dump run, and went to Neskaya to scan and print the writing in blood.
Something I don’t usually share when I talk about Journey Into Courage is my monologue for the “Fear” section. I used to cut myself with razorblades. When I looked back to see what was happening in my life, I realized it was the late 60’s and we were at war in Vietnam. I identified with the soldiers. I created a script where I was writing in my journal. I had the music of Simon & Garfunkle (Sounds of Silence, I am a Rock) in the background. I mimed actually cutting myself and writing with the blood. Part of the structure that Bess created for Journey was that we would have an object that represented our abuse in the first set of monologues, and we would throw it in a garbage can as part of the Courage section. I think I still have the notebook I used, but the razor blade is long gone.
This is a writing in blood. It was probably written in 1969. The words are from Rilke’s First Duino Elegy. “Who, if I cried out, would hear me amid the hosts of angels…” I do not know whose translation it is. I learned it from a friend. A later part of the same elegy begins: “Ought not these oldest sufferings of ours to be yielding more fruit by now?” These quotations spoke to the depth of my pain.
Went home and worked on the Journey booklet. Re-formatted the poems, wrote a page for the blood writing. Printed them out. Cut out the copies of the blood writing. (Now I have to tape it back onto the big autobiography page.) Trimmed and punched all the pages. Next step is to glue the pictures. I want to take it to Erica.
One of the last lines of the Poem “Blood and Stone” is:
Mommy and Daddy, if I cut myself and wrote you in blood
would you listen?