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ART PIECE: “THE CLIFF OF BECOMING”

 

(Me well my head on virtually described very weird body)


ART PIECE: “THE CLIFF OF BECOMING”

A life told in altitude, collapse, and self return.


🧗‍♀️ SCENE ONE — Top of the Cliff: The Juggler

A figure stands at the cliff edge, juggling.

Too many balls.

Too many roles.

Too many expectations.

The performance version of you — the one who keeps everything in the air because dropping anything feels like failure.

The canvas is bright, windy, precarious.

Theme:

The high functioning mask.

The circus of womanhood.

The ND survival act.

 https://hello-wall-hormonal-heart-poetry.blogspot.com/2026/04/scene-one-juggle.html


💥 SCENE TWO — Bottom of the Cliff: Splattered

At the base of the cliff:

A splattered version of the same figure.

Not gory — symbolic.

Flattened.

Overwhelmed.

Burnt out.

The moment life says “enough.”

The colours are heavier, earthier, collapsed.

Theme:

The crash.

The cost of juggling.

The menopause pause as a forced landing.

https://hello-wall-hormonal-heart-poetry.blogspot.com/2026/04/scene-two-bottom-of-cliff-splattered.html


🪜 SCENE THREE — Halfway Up: The Ladder + The Load Bag

A ladder leans against the cliff.

Halfway up, you’re climbing with a heavy load bag.

The bag is overstuffed — motherhood, ND masking, caring, grief, duty, emotional labour, all of it.

You’re climbing, but the weight is ridiculous.

It’s the midlife grind.

The “I’ll just keep going” era.

Theme:

Carrying too much.

The invisible labour.

The climb that nobody applauds.

https://hello-wall-hormonal-heart-poetry.blogspot.com/2026/04/scene-three-halfway-up-ladder-loud-bag.html


🧳 SCENE FOUR — Sliding Back Down: Bag Burst

You’re sliding back down the cliff on your bottom,

and the bag has burst open.

Its contents are everywhere — scattered, chaotic, uncurated.

This is the moment of truth:

You can’t carry it all anymore.

You can’t pretend it fits.

You can’t juggle and climb and hold and perform.

Theme:

The unraveling.

The forced inventory.

The ND clarity that comes when everything spills.

https://hello-wall-hormonal-heart-poetry.blogspot.com/2026/04/scene-four-sliding-back-down-bag-burst.html

🏔️ SCENE FIVE — Top of the Mountain: Empty Handed, Self Owned

Finally, you reach the top of the mountain.

Not the cliff — the mountain.

A higher place.

A wiser place.

You stand empty handed,

wearing a T shirt that reads:

“ME.

#SelfLove

#AllAboutMe.”

Not selfish.

Self returned.

No juggling.

No load bag.

No splatter.

No performance.

Just you.

Theme:

Reclamation.

Menopause as metamorphosis.

The sovereign self.

https://hello-wall-hormonal-heart-poetry.blogspot.com/2026/04/scene-five-mountain-of-self-love.html

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