*
Stars Ties
Serpents
and Valentines
Numbers
on the Board
Ponds
Swans
Concentration
till Sensation comes
Threats
Locations old Names
Odd Times!
*
Sequel to Painting and blog BROKEN OPEN!
Behind
the Art.
The experiences and feelings that inspired the
paintings.
(Affected
by stalking behaviours)
Living
and transforming!
*
Life had
become disastrously odd for me.
*
Propellers
race above the Thames!
The crowd
watches!
Lucky she
got back before the feds!
*
Sometime was to pass before I returned to painting after the easy flow on old paper with first painting Broken Open.
www.saatchiart.com/LaviniaDeAyr
WITH GENDERLESS BEINGS!
1. BROKEN OPEN - An expression of explosive and sudden change!
2. TRANSFORMING…….An expression of a grounding life force – calming sudden change!
Once I did return to paint, open to whatever wanted to be painted, it was still an easy flow. Because neither painting I was to create was intended for public view.
The first painting interprets exploding energetic field, the second interprets transforming that into calmer energy, working with watercolours while combining sketching with painting, maintaining a figurative focal point.
At the time of the creating of the two paintings was one of the most intense times of being targeted by the particular style of stalking, which I refer to as trophy stalking.
I came to the understanding of trophy stalking, when shortly after moving into my new home, I went out with relatives and friends to lunch. I had a non-alcoholic can of drink, a very well-known brand! When I returned home as I was making my way upstairs to my flat, the same brand of drink was left outside the flat of the person I had a brief encounter with! It would appear that the whole point of doing something so simple, yet effective enough to prove someone knew where I had been. It was a way of letting me know I was being watched! and the need to intimidate! But in actual fact, it was nothing more than proving how nosey they were, and the onset of a form of co dependence, played out with much bravado to make it not look like what it is.
But none the less, being only human such a situations does take its toll, there is only so much one person can do against the pressure of well supported campaign.
Yet, it can never be taken for granted that any such endeavours, intentions, or need for such attention, would be or remain non - violent. An incident had occurred before I moved house that I did not relate to being part of the same problem, trusting life to be back to normal after first being stalked. I returned home to the property I was to move from, to find my bank statement on the floor outside my front door!
There was nowhere I was to go, not even inside the privacy of my own home, where I would not feel or know I was being targeted. Whether I was in hospital, at work, at a funeral or wake!
*
Something would be said.
Somebody would be sent.
*
It is tiring and oppressive
Not impressive.
Accused of being trouble!
Nothing but a hard working mother!
Getting on with the job of two!
*
For my own healing and protection,
I let my poetry narrate my life experiences,
In between explanations!
*
It is not just paper
Colour
Shape and paint!
*
Brief encounters
The appearance of friendliness
Old patterns forced to fit
But I still noticed the beauty and opportunity of my surroundings.
*
I loved
Orange sunsets
Misty mornings on the banks of the river.
Walking over the historic bridge.
*
Artists, designers, entrepreneur’s vibes
Telethapy filled the streets
And the skies.
With so much history
River merchants
Who created growth and economy.
*
I was just
walking down the road!
I
had been stalked before…..
……..I was approached by a man
much older than myself. We started talking, while in conversation I think he
may have mentioned he had been watching me for some time or had seen me around.
No alarm bells went off! He lived in an area that adjoined the area I actually
lived.
At the time of meeting this man,
I was a young single and was the parent of a toddler. We talked and laughed, finding
out we had music in common, an industry he was involved in and had ambitions of
making it in, a singer himself. He was involved enough in that business at that
time to know about up and coming new artists.
I agreed to go on a date with
this man, admittedly I was not completely attracted to him, probably the only
attraction for me was that he was years my senior. There was a feeling of
resistance in my stomach area, I did not perceive that as a warning, no alarm
bells went off! I was just
open to try and see if there was love, I did not find it that hard to trust. At
that point in my young existence, I understood marriage and relationships to be
about more than love at first sight, infatuation or lust, therefore a lack of
attraction did not necessarily mean it would not work out.
As I agreed to meet up for a date
I remember turning to this man and jokingly saying, “don’t turn psycho on me”! Yet again
I did not know how to perceive this as a possible warning!
The dating was short lived and
came to an abrupt end.
I moved on with my life, dating
and making friends with other guys and people.
He did not, this man went onto
rage a stalking campaign which lasted about 7 years! Though at times
intermittent, the threat of him coming back to attack me by forcing his way
into home, or following behind me as I walked down the street at times on his
push bike, or emerging from doorways or from around corners to restrain me in
the street in front of my child, while my hands where filled with heavy bags of
shopping, as well as my child holding onto my hands, which meant I then had to
struggle to get free from him, while trying not to injure my own child in the
process!
Eventually, we had to move from
that particular neighbourhood, a place where my child loved living!
*
IT
WAS A LONG LEARNING PROCESS TO HEAR GOOD.
*
One
decision!
One
answer!
One yes!
Hoping
for the best!
Result!
Years of
torment!
Living!
Yet experiencing distress from someone else’s inability of acceptance!
*
Anything after abuse seems good!
I was young and naïve, if I had
the right kind of guidance about how to use my instincts or how to listen to higher
intuition. I may have been better placed to pay attention.
First instance when this man had stated
that he had already observed me, maybe that ought to have been a red flag!
Second instance when I felt resistance in my stomach area, and realised I was not that attracted to him. Maybe that ought to have been an alarm.
Third instance, biggest lesson that with
experience I would have listen to differently, was instead of turning to him and joking
“ don’t turn
psycho on me”, in that moment with practice and experience. I would have turned that around into a question, and ask myself very quickly ‘is he
going to turn psycho on me’?! How different life might of been.
I had not long lived in the area
where I became a direct target of the date/stalker. I had moved to that area having
witnessed someone else surviving stalking/assault. While yet again trying to
move on in life and make a fresh start for myself.
Previously aware of such behaviours in the
neighbourhood I had grown up in, from childhood to teenage, where the stalking
behaviours were directed toward other relatives. Though in those days it was not
recognised as stalking, being a child not understanding the full impact of the
behaviours, my unawareness meant I found it all very funny!
*
INTRODUCING
EXCLAMATION POETRY!
FOLLOWING
NO GRAMMATICAL RULES!
ALLOWING
THE VERSES TO SPEAK ART AND EXPERIENCE!
*
The warning
bells did not appear to go off for me, but they were there.
Living
life at home as part of a large family was not a bed of rose petals for
anybody.
Years
later I wonder if that is why I could not hear.
The
warning bells when they did appear!
*
Born into
bruises!
Drinking
in guilt with the milk!
While happy
babies drink love milk!
Soap
suds!
The
roller that was the biggest iron!
Now fancy dance vibes!
Family
was a crowd!
Not just
two point four!
Poor not
proud!
Veg on
the floor!
Picking
up the manure!
The
stalls!
*
Born into
bruises!
Instinct
messed up and tarnished!
Life
screams unclean!
Female
automatically dirty!
As she
struggles to find her worthy!
A willingness
to pass her over!
Deemed as
an object!
Once innocence
is taken!
She
negotiates the city of predators!
Even if she
can get on the elevator!
*
AUTOMATIC DENIALS!
AUTOMATICALLY DENIED!
*
It comes
in like a melody,
Inspiration
is like a harmony.
*
Propellers
Supermarket
car parks.
Leather
braces
The
belief in walking in some kind of line.
How many
years have you waited!
Slow.
No
treasure
Just the
island.
Light
feet.
Side
streets.
Impact
and flee.
Car doors and scaffold.
I must
show you so you see!
*
We always
have one of our men in!
Do not
think we do not see.
Life
threatened for not wanting to live negatively.
The
absence.
Not of
spiritual essence.
*
Taking
notes under the arches.
Doing
everything to make me feel down hearted.
Jealously
and qualification.
In the
plane line at the foreign location.
*
Feeling
forced to respond.
The test
is done.
I
fail you keep the money.
Yet in
your dis-ease.
You still
cannot leave.
Farms.
Only an
up the street location.
*
Poison in
the wiping of the lips.
Tiny ears
as life no longer grips.
Tight
loose straight curls.
Transport
and prayers!
Questions
Glasses frames
Answers.
*
History
and ancient monuments.
The
horseman stood bold!
*
The years mixed.
ANTICS
FROM THE ARCHIVES.
The tape
broken on the curve.
The crystal
vase smashed into powder.
The
premature life whimpered.
Outside
the pub sat the girl.
Loose
brown ponytail of curls wiping her mouth from side to side!
Premature
indeed.
Deliberate
failure.
Another
house entry anomaly!
*
BENCH MARK FOR TOO MANY ANTICS OVER TOO MANY YEARS!
I do not
blame the disbelief!
Or the
refusal to believe!
Forced to
point fingers!
This is
not the way I wanted to have to speak!
*
Strangers!
Indirect
patterns of communication!
Large
envelopes.
The
riverside.
The bulky
couple with underarm information!
I am just
going along to get along till I can get out!
Yet a
constant display of antics.
Forces me
not to be able to keep quiet so I can get to the life I need to lead.
*
Years
later!
We get up
again!
Just my
child and me!
Huffing
and puffing!
Moving
away!
*
Another
neighbourhood!
Another
landlord!
More
antics waiting!
Every day
on my life lawn!
Grass is
a bit greener!
Things
still make it difficult for an employer!
*
I cannot
help my response observing more behaviour and antics!
I am only
human getting on and wanting to get on.
I find
myself wondering…….
Who are
you….
….. to
tell me what to do!
Lip
syncing as you walk past me trying to tell me what to do…..
…….go in
and sit!
How do
you even see through what I may or may not need to do!
The
length of time you have had to sit and watch me live!
Creating
judging and testing my mothering skills.
Create a
distraction, see if she falls for it.
Well, of
course I fell for it! It look genuine. Until the head was hit!
Then I
find myself at the location no doubt predicted.
Staring
at the poster on the wall.
Era of
the marks woman and hoaxer was born.
Get ready
set go.
I know
exactly where your thought is going to go!
I know
exactly what decisions you are going to make!
I know
what you are going to do next!
Right
back to my childhood hell!
*
Take one innocent!
Don’t let
go!
Watch,
copy,
Follow!
*
Twist to more serious antics,
the greed for more reaction!
*
Watch for
medical weakness.
Just where
the aura is bound to have a whole.
Visit the
hospital clinic,
Waiting
in the waiting rooms for the right moment to come to shove the negatives in!
Rust
copper adorned with gold.
Resuscitation.
Pushed
cones.
Old Neighbourhoods.
Corduroy
suits.
Targeted at another
hospital visit.
By the taller than
most.
Nothing
to boost.
Return of
the flashing white lights.
Folks
seem still hypnotised by grooming lies.
*
Living through a painful operation, fully conscious with my eyes wide open,
As not
only my life is spliced.
I take
heed and try to warn.
But am
powerless as the momentum is about something more than me!
What more
can I do,
Other
than wait for everyone groomed, and those to help them see through.
Tested
for nobody’s sake.
Pressure
added because of the delusional.
A couple
more antics,
Flushing
kisses as I reach for a biscuit,
Rip open
her tummy.
Biker
thighs cannot feel me,
Just as
well,
Considering
my location!
Recovery
suite after another operation!
The cult
theory that used,
Flaky projection used to manoeuvre me out of
my privacy!
I used
the same theory to manoeuvre back into living in better knowledge and reverence to my true spirit!
*
The poet!
*
Natural
Flowism!
