I am a medical student, dissecting the body of the past. I cut, not into the flesh and bone of 3D life, but into the subtle body, the energetic psychic body swollen with memories. I watch it bleed. Then I prick it some more. Till all the anger and shame, the bitterness, runs out. And what remains is the dancer, and the dance.

It’s why I love writing memoir. Most people wouldn’t want to keep rehashing difficult or painful episodes from the past. But with each successive draft I am bringing in more light. Transforming the experience into something grand. Without changing a single fact.

Transformance by Nancy Wait (oil on canvas) 1980s
http://fineartamerica.com/featured/transformance-nancy-wait.html

(Prints/cards available at Fine Art America)