I cannot create pretty things. Yesterday and the day before, I couldn't even think about pretty things. Friday night was all about ugly, dark things.
I wasn't there. I was up all night listening and watching every bit of information. I got friends living in the same street, or just near by. I did ask and wait to know if they were safe. But I wasn't there. I did follow every steps, from insider's twits to outsider's video. But I wasn't there to hear the shootings, the screams, the tears.
So why I am crying ? I'm safe, my friends are safe. Am I ?
Politicians, journalists, they say "don't be afraid". Why ? It is scary. I am afraid. Not for me or my family. I'm afraid because anywhere, someone can decide to kill, anybody. Not a precise target, with a real political impact. Anybody. Numerous anybody.
So I am afraid. It's not the first time. It will not be the last. But I will go over it. And the whole country will be over the fear. Because those who know the fear can control it and act. It's not about fear, it's about courage.
I will probably cry some more. I will not hide my tears. And I will not speak about them. They're mine. But I will share an art journal page I made today. It's not pretty. It's my way of remember November 13th.
Ps : mists and paints by Tattered Angels