• falling- falling softly as they tend to do caressing my eyelashes until they collapse and break alas upon my lips they roll as if over softly laden sand dunes i feel the metal crouched in the palm of my hand i tenderly grasp their base fondly i touch its cooled edge to my skin until the pressure releases -in sin the red dyed tears roll down my flesh softly -they fall down …
    Will Fisher is a modern artist, and his subject is the world. In one particular series, Self-Harm Awareness, he reveals his girlfriend’s startling history. i drop this sinful tool to my beautifully-tiled bathroom floor clatters- alerting others in this home to my presence my voice carries only to the tip of my tongue i try to scream… the pool of red dyed tears caresses me as i slowly slip to my beautifully tiled floor. She is a recovering cutter; she has known many dark nights; tear stained tattoos across her cheeks. She sits in a simple position- her legs gently interlaced; shoulders presumably rolled forward over her thin frame; arms gently rested in her lap, palms up. Written across her forearm are the words “show me how to cry” that give a sense of tentative dignity unknown to most. She is allowing the world to peer into her past; trusting us not to rip her to shreds for its darkness; all to shed light on such a taboo topic.
    Fisher states in his art that everything is going to be all right. He shows the thoughts that his girlfriend has struggled to cope with, or without, and the emotions that roared through her soul, ravaging her from the inside out as a tornado ripping viciously through the plains. Yet, everything is all right. How can everything be all right in the midst of such disaster?
    Emotions are who we are; we can wear them on our sleeves, or bottle them up for another day in the far off future; but we all have them. It’s simply a matter of how we deal with them; how we cope; what tools we choose to employ. Through all of this, everything is all right.
    That storm that ravaged the life of Fisher’s girlfriend ravages the lives of several people every day; yet somehow, everything manages to be all right. The words scrawled on her wrist emphasize that point. No longer are there deep red etches lined along her skin; no longer does she turn to a razor in a time of need. Rather she takes out an umbrella and dances in the rain that is her eternal storm. “Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass, it’s about learning how to dance in the rain.”