I started on my writing journey by accident. I had done a portrait of an Indonesian woman in creams and blues back in 2007 I think as a gift to one of my daughters. At the time she was working in Jakarta for an NGO and the woman was her house help, more as a means to give someone employment than to do much work as there was only my daughter living in a tiny, humble unit.
I went to visit and asked the Indonesian woman if I could do her portrait. I gave one to her and when I got home did a larger one to give to my daughter. Oh I did them in pastels, just incase you were wondering.
One of my brothers-in-law professed to not know what that ugly thing over her head was and why was it in those colours? Not just once but every time he saw it. So, I thought I’d better write about the picture incase others had the same problem. Below is the result…
IN THE SHADOW OF THE SHADOW
She lives, she dreams of a time not too distant when she will be free from the shadow of her womanhood the thought, the desire is persistent that she should or so it seems. She lives, she dreams of a time far too distant when she was free in the shadow of her culture lost the genetic memory is insistent far too great the cost or so it seems. She lives, she dreams of a time not enough distant where she lives and dies in the shadow of a shadow puppet regime neither womanhood not culture existent not allowed to dream or so it seems.