One Saturday morning when I was 9
She woke my sister and I
She drove us to her office
In the back of Castle Hill
And stood us in front of a blank canvas
And told us to paint what we could feel
I thought it was normal
To be encouraged to express everything
A recipe created over the countertops of a kitchen so tiny we could barely fit in
A scarf she was knitting
A ceramic bowl she had sculpted from the palms of her bare hands
With a cigarette in the other as she chatted and planned
Wearing a shirt with chickens on it and a pair of socks that didn’t match
Nothing made sense and she wanted it exactly like that
Nothing made sense and around my head I couldn’t wrap
That creating was just the same as breathing to her
That creating underpinned the way she raised us and the people we were
She sat in the audience of every monologue
Every show and every speech and every dance and every song
She sat in the waiting room of an audition hall
She sat and waited to receive every yes and no call
I thought it was a normal thing
To feel loved in my uniqueness
To be loved with courage and a boundary-less freedom
I defied it
The older that I grew
Couldn’t understand how she could walk through her life
With a fluid grip on who she was and what she knew
We wore the same size shoe
And yet I couldn't comprehend why she didn’t desire control
She didn’t need it
It wasn’t in the core of her soul
Like mine
But she loved that about me anyway
As she laughed while I organised and delegated and relentlessly exchanged
My energy
In the name of achievement and praise
When all along she knew I was here to be created and create
And while I remained in denial
As I wrote stories and directed plays
As I styled outfits and journaled and I sung and I played
She knew
I would always find my way
Back to the little girl she stood in front of that blank canvas that Saturday
She returned me to the core of who I was put here to be
And with a fluid grip I begin to see me
It’s no normal thing at all
To be loved with boundary-less freedom, in my uniqueness and my courage and my honest feelings
It’s no normal thing to be encouraged to create
And now so,
Because of Her
I do it everyday
