She places the mask over her face.
Not to hide but to transform.
To flirt and laugh and tease and enchant.
To pass unnoticed, to observe, spy, gather gossip.
To pretend to be another - an absent friend, to gain revenge.
The mask covers my face
and another facet is revealed.
Is it my bosom and hips or
is it my hidden heart or harlot?
Does the mask transform or liberate?
Is liberation a transformation?
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1 comment:
stopping by for a visit with apologies that it has taken so long. I am making a serious effort to monitor my time on the internet and that effort certainly impacts my visits. I LOVE the photo of the guarded door. it has great metaphorical value, me thinks.
the mask posting is a good one. we all wear masks for different reasons and on different days. there is a book by William Ian Miller Faking It. worth looking into, imo.
enjoy your beautiful spanish spring time; here in the dark(er) more phlegmatic north, it is reasonably bright and not-cold (as opposed to sunny and warm. lol)
smiles,
Maggie Rose
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