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  • Somewhere here I have already written about my anger at the fact that, after my diagnose, many people asked me, “What is it that you do not want to see?”
    Good question.

    But: rubbish, this Retinitis Pigmentosa is a hereditary illness, faulty DNA, nothing to do. Or maybe Sol Luckman can tell me something, I discovered his book about how to better your DNA, I am waiting for it. Why not try?

    These days I realize that there are tons of things I do not want to see. I do not want to see that there are men – like the Mexican drug – lord, who just got killed – who throw their enemies to tigers they keep as pets. I do not want to know how many people have been killed today; I stopped watching the news long time ago. Whenever I do catch some, because my husband keeps being alert to world news, I often do not sleep well.
    I do not want to see the chameleon hunting a beetle and then being devoured by a snake. I do not want to see the wasp that kills a tarantula slowly, oh so slowly by putting its larvae in it (as Nancy Pogue LaTurner just described so very vividly).

    I do not want to look at Ray and Tony G suffering from cancer.

    I definitely do not want to see all the abuse and murder and that everything alive needs to eat another thing to be able to stay alive.
    “ El mundo es una mierda”, a friend exclaimed while we sat eating a delicious lunch and I gave him all my arguments against what he had just said.
    But he is right: The world seems pretty shitty and by far not just the human world.

    Always there is a hungry ghost in me that wants more of everything. My own shadow. When do I really sacrifice anything for somebody else – a meal, a drink, an hour, a day, some attention?
    Since Santa Claus dissolved into childhood dreams and God vanished behind the Big Bang I truly and honestly cannot stand myself and the world anymore, even though I must admit to sudden ecstatic moments of beauty and joy.

    Hadn´t I arrived in Mexico and being inspired by her artisans found the courage to play around with color just like them, I would have very probably killed myself along the way.
    I need to paint, because this allows me to create myself another world: one filled with love, friendship and the small joys of daily life. It is all color and happiness and trust in the flow. That world I would have created, if I was a goddess.

    In my darkest hours, when I felt cut off from even the bush beside or the moon above me, I have decided several times, to paint this utter darkness. I have not been able to do that. There always appears an angel or a flower or a colorful bird somewhere and breaks the infinite night. I feel that if I managed to paint my desperation I would forever go nuts over that, I would not return to a sane mind and life.

    I ask myself these days. Am I losing my eyesight, because I refuse to see reality?

    Wouldn´t we all be blind then?

    Or wouldn´t I have gone completely blind then already decades ago?

    As long as I manage to see something I will work hard on painting myself a better world. This is my strategy for survival.

    Who knows what my mind will come up with to change the truth of reality once I cannot paint anymore.
    __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
    Art by Kiki ( "Searching For A Sign Of God In A Cold November Night")

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