Brightstar Wonderland

Bright star! Would I were steadfast as thou art---John Keats

Sunday night, despondent from watching a childhood favorite turned into a feminist stereotype, I saw Campion's Bright Star from the comforts of my bedroom,with the musical fireworks show as background, and it dawned on me that I had no significant "musings" enough to create a thing of beauty of late.

Bright Star is a movie about the tragic life and love of English poet John Keats
For the past five years, my life has been a constant string of one dilemma to the next-each one gradually increasing in drama and requiring much of my attention during the day that my nights are spent not in creating an art form but in feasting on what someone else has brilliantly created. What is awfully ironic is that the tragedies I encounter are not my own making-save for one or two admittedly.

I never thought that helping others would require so much of my thought life that my creative juices stopped flowing-if it hasn't been altogether sucked out of my being by the necessity of being logical and making legal papers that does not even give me the liberty to quote Shakespeare more than once- or Coldplay for that matter.

Seeing Burton's version of Alice in Wonderland was like seeing a glimpse of who I had become in 5 years of legal work or who I was fast becoming: a poster child for the modern day feminist heroine- one who does not want to conform to the dictates of society; who clings to past dreams and childhood memories but keeps them at bay; one who is reluctant to be fierce but is ruthless anyway...one who eschews wedding plans for the possibility of becoming the next great CEO- and the irony of it all is that I am no believer in feminism nor have I eschewed any wedding plans when I realized that becoming a lawyer is what I have been called to do.

Burton's idea of Wonderland and Alice
"....No--yet still stedfast, still unchangeable...."
Yet being embraced by a client who has been abused multiple times,shattering a cobweb of lies by perpetrators who prey on the innocence of young girls and meeting people I would never have met had I chosen to be a slave to my creative side make it worth it to lose the time I so need to muse, to ponder and to create the novel of my life or the collection of poems that are lost somewhere inside my head.

Still....I dream of a wonderland- the one that is more like an ultimate playland than the weird psychedelic world of a heroine addict; one where a hat maker doesn't take a romantic interest in a visitor who's thrice his age; one which makes me forget that my life has moved forward too fast and slowed down too soon instead of rubbing in the miseries of the reality I find myself in.

I still choose the Wonderland which influenced me to create and write poetry and silly stories and encouraged me to dream some more and believe in the existence of a smiling invisible cheshire cat instead of forcing the issue of independence and making that the most important idea of all for a woman.

The fact that I started this entry inside the courtroom while waiting for the defense counsel to show up and finished it in a cab as I travel to a sexually abused victim's shelter made me realize that perhaps, all is not lost with my creative gift.

Perhaps, I have to see that musings can come anytime and at any place. Maybe it's time to get a Moleskin exclusively to chalk when those rare moments come.

If only Mr. Rabbit will show up soon...

Comments

  1. Very well written, Ate. Thanks for sharing.

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  2. You never fail to amaze me, Ma'am! :)

    ReplyDelete

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