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Eve Drewelowe's journals, volumes II-III, 1950s
Page 207
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July 1939. Insert next page Even now I am not too sure that I am not rushing forward with a swirling suction to no uncertain goal. I am being swept with - irrevocable dexterity and sureness to what might so easily be the declivitiy of a chasm. I gaze at the befuddled delineation is an all black vacuum toward which I am being whirled with trepidation and eyes dilated with horror and apprehension. Beyond there is no future for it is impossible for vision to penetrate the velvet depths that loom so imperiously. Will the great curtains again part upon a stage set for another action of the drama that must be played in another breathless rush of need? Even now I am not satisfied that the steep cliff ahead beyond the breakers on the stage, can be managed. The carrying ropes seem too weak in order to furnish me the necessary support to boost me up. A fine commentary on life that when I was reasonably well I didn't have the properly adequate opportunity to paint. With being so driven, so pushed, so marionetted life was a constant egging harassment. After I was ill, however, on a regimen of rest and diet and medication, when the leash was measured carefully in terms of activities and time - then came my grand opportunity to burst and crescendo into a song of pigment. Then came a joyous release of soul hitherto unknown, escaped as it were, from a dungeon dark of non-achievement and always bitter failed desire. Canvases that had been clamoring for attention for many years needed to ferment no longer.
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July 1939. Insert next page Even now I am not too sure that I am not rushing forward with a swirling suction to no uncertain goal. I am being swept with - irrevocable dexterity and sureness to what might so easily be the declivitiy of a chasm. I gaze at the befuddled delineation is an all black vacuum toward which I am being whirled with trepidation and eyes dilated with horror and apprehension. Beyond there is no future for it is impossible for vision to penetrate the velvet depths that loom so imperiously. Will the great curtains again part upon a stage set for another action of the drama that must be played in another breathless rush of need? Even now I am not satisfied that the steep cliff ahead beyond the breakers on the stage, can be managed. The carrying ropes seem too weak in order to furnish me the necessary support to boost me up. A fine commentary on life that when I was reasonably well I didn't have the properly adequate opportunity to paint. With being so driven, so pushed, so marionetted life was a constant egging harassment. After I was ill, however, on a regimen of rest and diet and medication, when the leash was measured carefully in terms of activities and time - then came my grand opportunity to burst and crescendo into a song of pigment. Then came a joyous release of soul hitherto unknown, escaped as it were, from a dungeon dark of non-achievement and always bitter failed desire. Canvases that had been clamoring for attention for many years needed to ferment no longer.
Iowa Women’s Lives: Letters and Diaries
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