Thursday, June 8, 2017

Deer in Headlights

“Assault is a scarecrow that has kept me out of the world long enough.”

From my diary.

17.04 .08 
Funny. I am biking through wild, rural Canada this summer, and what terrifies me most isn’t encountering carnivores or ticks, but men. Or rather not men, but the shadow of men. That’s why I have to go, why I have to run with the wolves (allegorically, of course, do not go breaking the spirits of things that are wild and free). Vaincre ma peur de l’homme. Assault is a scarecrow that has kept me out of the world long enough. I can’t go running at a park without an old man demanding I bare my teeth at him and say hello. 'I would like now to be left alone'. To be allowed to touch mountain and moonlight without feeling so much like a prey animal. I would like to be one of those lithe women who seem to move about the world unscathed, untethered, as though unaware of the gossamer webs sprung about us, but of course they too are aware, I suppose. Only they do not harden. They keep their bones light as a wing. 

Victor Higgings. Taos, New Mexico. 1921.
This article was originally published on a retired domain and has been republished for archival purposes.

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