You don't understand, baby sister, what it is like. The gnawing in the back of your throat, the lingering ache in your teeth, the screaming pit deep inside you growing louder and louder the longer you don't feed it. And then there is that intrusive voice, constantly whispering. Suggesting, negotiating and if ignored long enough, demanding, screaming, ordering me to let go and do the unspeakable.

I long to smell the scent of fresh oil paint and linen canvases, with a whiff of spring rain on dry soil floating lightly above the mix. I want to feel the bristles of my brush caressing the canvas, to watch another realm reveal itself by my hand. A realm of reflection, wonder, and truth. Truth can be harsh, beautiful, painful, even disturbing. But it is my truth. A truth without words or the need for explanation, reaching out to find the one soul who resonates with it.

Lesson II
Do you know why you return to this house of worship night after night?
What is it you seek? Absolution? Redemption?

The old book no longer serves you. And be honest, it never truly did.
It was never about the book, or faith, or the divine. That was always a facade.
So why return now?

I used to love lying on the ground on a warm spring day, watching the clouds slowly morph into different shapes and forms. Listening to the wind gently blowing through the leaves of the trees, as if it wanted to share with me what inspired it to create those figures in the sky. I loved the feel of grass prickling my skin, and how the sun would cover me with a warm, welcoming blanket of joy. Celebrating life, feeling part of this beautiful earth. To feel so tiny and yet so one with this creation. It was comforting and peaceful.

They've robbed me. They've stolen half of me, and the world I loved, enjoyed, cried in, and lived in. They took away that beautiful dance between light and darkness. The eternal circle of life and death, forever broken.

They told me I was Toreador. That I belonged to the clan of artists, of beauty, of passion. It was a gift, they said. This new world of mystery, of shadows, and of opportunity to create a legacy of my own. Did they really expect me to be grateful for handing me this "gift" wrapped in golden paper? It is still just half of what once was whole.