Tuesday, April 3, 2007


The Wound in the Sphinx

I can be reached by my e-mail at:
elisha.moor@gmail.com
Embodying lives drawn from untenable passions, women so clearly manifest life that their mere presence demands the existence of comfort. So much has been expressed in so many feeble attempts at encompassing these 'truths' which walk amongst us, that I hardly feel still another should be productive, but alas, as a woman soon to be achieving her own personal 'golden point' this very year, I am compelled to offer something to this endless debate.

We're offered by physician and culture details of our unique underlying pharmacologies of femininity and the havoc they will surely wreak upon our blessed forms given inevitable time. Make no mistake, for that fount of sweetness from which so many have endeavoured to sup over our long lives remains ever dear. In ways it has become an even finer source of limitless rarity destined to be appreciated by ever fewer and more unique suitors. But what of myself? What is there to tell of Elisha and her grand half-century of years weathering the life in a world build of fifteen minute memories? What shall I offer of my remaining strengths while revealing personal frailties boldly and plainly leaving them as if theatre for all?

I am beautiful and have revelled in my own times, but deepest personal fears shall soon be realised. I am marked by an exterior, a frame which has perhaps already reached its gracious zenith. Line and wrinkle, spot and greyness are guiding my downward flight from the roles of the angelic. A seraphim yet perhaps, but one whom shall no longer visit those more ethereal corners of sensuality. There is no shame in this coming to terms as it is part of this life and perhaps the price for having lived at all.

I have worked to capture such emotional and physical frailties in my art work, modest or immodest as it may be. Gaze upon this glorious wreckage of such a woman whom has lived. Summon your own courage to view and ask the eternal question, for is the 'glass' half full or half empty indeed! I shall offer those bold and inquisitive enough no simple nor comfortable answers, for there are none. As in all love affairs, even self-love shall arrive at crossroads of crisis where hearts invariably become hurt, broken or shattered. What matters if they be mine own. I've seen glimpses of these personal betrayals even in my own deeply loved form. Ah, how I shall miss this warm, loveliest and dearest of companions whence she falls from her graces. Yes, she has certainly revelled in her own times and been elevated to uphorias of love unsurpassed, as well as brought to the depths of foulness and degradation unimaginable. All seem equal now to my dead heart.


As it has been the centre of a wonderful life, so shall it retire gracefully into the night and take its rightful place amongst pleasurable memories, to be carefully folded and caressed as if a new youthful morning awaits on the morrow.

Monday, April 2, 2007

You may reach Elisha by e-mail at: elisha.moor@gmail.com
All writings and images © Copyright 2010 by the author, Elisha A. Moor