On Women’s Writings
I do not like women’s writings. They talk too much about their bodies.
Notice the negative connotation attributed to the relationship body/femininity construed as an obstacle to the evolution of the spirit?
This man’s feeble mind confined women to lands of sensuality, magic, swamps, and mud: in short, to categories related to the carnal. Women can only be aware of tumultuous feelings that erupt inside their bodies. Nothing else. There was an implicit juxtaposition between body/femininity and spirit/masculinity, the latter understood as superior.
I navigated the incredible writings of women like Virginia Woolf, George Sand, Marguerite Yourcenar, and many others.
I became a mirror. I produce images of the spirit and of the body.
I play with them. I absorb them. I devour them.
I am the same with the richness of the intellect and the opulence of feelings.
My body is the alphabet of a language spoken at the exact hour when the sunset rains its cherry blossoms over the laughter of children.
I love the frenzy of the 1920s. Oh, les années folles!
I am the quintessence of that which you will always desire.
I am a woman.
I am not made in your image.
You are made in mine.
Happy New Year to all my followers. May 2021 bring you happiness and success. May you be forever loved.
@Gabriela Marie Milton