Shame in the Plumerias
Digital painting in Photoshop, July 2019
Sometimes things you love will hold merciless mirrors to your face forever.
Plumerias are fragrant, sturdy enough for me to put in my hair, and one of the flowers I associate with a beloved travel destination. Unfortunately for me, they now remind me of the one person who understood my obsession with that destination and all it offers. The reasons for my chagrin at the recalled memory oscillate: I feel shame at my role in this person and I no longer talking, and at so much that went down. And whether it all ended because of his shame in turn is not altogether clear to me, and may never be. I was not always OK with that.
The shame of it all was unbearable, and I desperately sought to bring some beauty back to something that ended in a very sad way. I think I succeeded even back then, in a way.