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To My Dark Side -

Ireland is beautiful, inspiration seeping from its every view. After spending time traveling the country, I found a spot that pulled me in, its rocky coastline impressive, full of sorrow and magic.

The waves are angry here, crashing into the shore, an unrelenting attack of water as scrambling fingers of foamy spray grasp the sand and drag it into the depths. I can't help but be reminded of you, and the way you attack my soul. An insidious battering of emotions that leaves great swaths of emptiness in its wake.

How I wish I didn't love you, didn't embrace you as my muse. You bring me nothing but pain, and despite my attempts to escape you, to outrun your searching tentacles, to banish you through sunlight and laughter or words on a page, you remain, lurking below the surface, a deep water Chimaera scanning my thoughts, waiting for any impulse that might give you the control you constantly crave.

I think of those artists who may have stood on this spot before me, waging a war against themselves, fighting battles they were destined to lose. Bottle in my hand, I'm drinking to you, my dark side, the other half of me. I wonder where you are hiding today, or if I've finally managed to elude you, scared that you might be gone forever.

I hear the children calling to me, so I must end this now. We've planned a trip to Abbeydorney today; will you be waiting for me there, hiding in deep green moss that clings the bridge at Kilflynn?

I miss you; my work is nothing without you.

Story by:

Tamara Dourney

submitted at 3:08pm

5 August 2009

Tamara Dourney's web:

http://amareluna.wordpress.com