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  • Writer's pictureSarah McCartney

she is the swift that fell into the sea

Updated: Aug 19, 2020

Nothing works. Everything is scattered and half finished. One day something will work. But I'm learning that it never will and that is the way life is. I'm hanging on by my finger tips. Bits here, bits there and this is how it is. Surviving but only just. Deeply sad and impotent, drowning in a sea of too much human world. I can't live at your speed. How do you all do it? Everything so fast, so much, its a tsunami of thought, creativity, inspiration and opportunity that overtakes me. So fast I cant even see it and the only way I can cope is to not look. Books, radio, phone, lectures, emails, news, people, people, people... too many people... but I am lonely. I hold on to my morning swims. I watch the waves coming in. I go through the ritual and swim further and further as the sea gets warmer. Its the only time I know what to do. Thinking about the conection between drawing dead birds and swimming. I am creating a shadow woman, a drowning bird. She is the swift that fell into the sea. Worn out. Im worn out.

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