and then there was mistletoe, silent, submerged, and waiting. a life
begun in happiness, a childhood rich in variety and freedom, much early
travel, much of the world seen and loved. then a life that took a wrong
turning, and the right road regained later than she would have wished.
blessed with an ease of spirit that falls so easily into a love of
rebellion. she was one of the intelligent ones who have to be lazy in
order to be awoken by failure. the early recklessness. the ambiguous
blessings of beauty, feline grace, and deep-scented sensuality. the
early reliance on easy talent. then being too favoured and lucky. then
unfavoured and unlucky. then misused by men. then disillusioned and
disenchanted. talents not developed early, lost on the way, wandering,
beautiful, optimistic still, and lost.
wreckages of past dreams about her. then despair and loss of faith in
life. then drink and drugs and hopelessness and believing in everything,
believing in nothing. emptiness. lovelessness. and then touched by good
fortune which never really deserted her. finding new friends. finding a
friend in lao. then the slow journey back, through art, to sanity.
meanwhile, what a ring of connections. disowned by parents, cut off from
homeland, almost friendless, heart dry but for the pulses of new
friendships and the quickening of art. her sensuality fabulous, her body
suspicious of love. her eyes suspicious, in spite of a capacity for
abundant warmth and great love. a heart frozen, a mind awake. waiting
for life’s thaw, clinging on to friendship, silent, submerged, like a
submarine, an iceberg, magisterial…
ben okri – in arcadia