Monday, October 11, 2004

Eleanor Rigby--puts on the face that she keeps in a jar by the door

What is it for? I'm thinking about the masks we wear. We'd put the Mardi Gras maskmakers to shame with the collections we keep. There's the "I'm fine" mask, the forced smile, the slits of eyes. No one is allowed to see what's behind. Fear of rejection or discovery, or just having to expend the energy to discuss it. Easier to put on the mask and take a Prozac or eat a Twinkie or slug back a drink. In a book I read, one faerie tells another that one can sometimes see through the glamour (the protective magic to hide a faerie's true identity from humans) out of the corner of one's eye. Sometimes even we humans can see through the masks. They wear thin, develop cracks, or we become adept at looking beyond the mask. That's if we can expend any energy beyond keeping up our own facades. It's exhausting, this mask-wearing. They become cumbersome and heavy, and we weary of the effort it requires. Yet if we risk enough to remove the mask, someone may run screaming from the real us. That is a price we may not be willing to pay. So each day, like Eleanor of the Beatle's song, we pick up the mask in the jar by the door and put it on. All the lonely people, where do they all come from ?


Blogger Lisa French said...

Eloquent, stimulating, leave's me wanting more. I bookmarked your blog. i just skimmed thru for lack of time. I will be back, I will pass it on.

I just started my first blog with no direction. Once again, I enjoy your writing.


10/13/2004 09:32:00 PM  

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