Linda Holeman Quotes

But it wasn't just the distance. It was what had happened to me since these days, those endless, quiet days when I thought my life would always continue in that way. When my life consisted of small, certain pieces of a larger, but basically simple, puzzle.
When I was certain that I always knew where each piece fit.

I knew my box of paints, stored away on the bedroom shelf of my small house across the ocean, could never create such colors.

I had never wanted attention, and now I was
purposely inviting it. As I had told Dr Duverger, I had little vanity, and yet one recent
morning I realized that I was avoiding looking at my own reflection, because it was
disturbing. Did I wish to go through life like this? Yes, the scar was a horrible memento
of what I had done to my father, but now I questioned whether I needed it to be so
obvious. The actual weight was within me. I carried it as though it were a heavy
earthenware pot of water. I had to walk through my days carefully, so as not to let it spill
over. It was my own personal burden, not necessary to be shared with all who looked at
me.

And now the thought came to me that I lived much of my life through the pages of books as well. That perhaps I, too, was only a paper figure. A cut-out, or silhouette. Flat.
I always thought I knew the shape of my life. Of course I thought I knew about life, thought I knew all I needed - or wanted - to know. And yet, like the opening left when a burning star falls from its perch, now an unexpected hole was left in what was once a solid curtain of understanding... ( )... Sitting under the cold stars, I understood that it was death that made me recognize life, and the existence, or pherhaps the non-existence of my own beeing.