So these are some song lyrics I wrote for our as-yet-nonexistent band. (Pray do not ask me for the tune, as I am utterly incapable of creating a tune of any kind, lol) And I do have to admit that a little John Keats snuck in there, but it's not scamming, it's a reference, right? ;)
It's vaguely based on a girl that I have never met, but that 2 of my sisters have and whom I have heard about and seen photos of on other peoples' Facebooks (she doesn't have her own account, naturally).
"Butterflies"
VERSE 1
So I’ve just seen the strangest sight
‘Cause I saw you at church last night
Standing shyly there
Across the room
Your grandma’s shoes and wrinkled skirt
Four buttons on your polo shirt:
They wrapped you up
Like a cocoon.
I couldn’t smile on your behalf
But neither could I think to laugh;
I looked at me
When I saw you
CHORUS
How I wish that you and I
Were multi-colored butterflies
We’d float away forever in a jewel-like sky.
‘Cause when I look at you and I
I swear to God, it makes me cry
Let’s spread our wings and soar so high
VERSE 2
Well in a sense you’re not alone
They used to dress me, too, at home
And so I know
What you must be
They snatch your beauty and your smile
And dress you in this dowdy style
In the name of God
And modesty
But in the name of all that is
Who lets you leave the house like this?
Don’t they know how sad
You are to see?
CHORUS
How I wish that you and I
Were multi-colored butterflies
We’d float away forever in a jewel-like sky.
‘Cause when I look at you and I
I swear to God, it makes me cry
Let’s spread our wings and soar so high
VERSE 3
And soon the years will slip unseen
You’re twenty-four and still fourteen
And safe from grown-up
Life and lust,
But you will never find yourself
‘Cause you’re a doll upon their shelf
Is this right?
And is this just?
They’ll stuff your head with silly lies
‘Til real life takes you by surprise
And what will happen,
Then, to us?
CHORUS
How I wish that you and I
Were multi-colored butterflies
We’d float away forever in a jewel-like sky.
‘Cause when I look at you and I
I swear to God, it makes me cry
Let’s spread our wings and soar so high.
-Violet
Showing posts with label dolls. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dolls. Show all posts
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Monday, April 26, 2010
My Mother's Dolls
In recent years, my mom has started a small business of her own in which she sews dresses for 18-inch dolls and sells them to other moms and doll collectors. Since my mom is a committed SAHM (stay-at-home-mother), this business has been a way to generate some extra cash for the family, with my mom still barely ever having to leave the house.
The evidence of my mom’s business is everywhere—when I come home from class, the remnants of the day’s photo shoot (to provide pictures of her merchandise for clients) are usually still set up in the living room, and every time I go into the laundry/sewing room to do some laundry, I behold her collection of “model” dolls, lined up in a row on a small white shelf, their smiling, painted faces showing how happy they are to simply wear the dresses my mom has made that day for them.
Please understand that I’m not trying to condemn my mom by saying this. There are a lot of really commendable things about my mom—for instance, she made a big sacrifice to stay home with us instead of pursuing a more lucrative career, and she currently babysits a 3-year-old completely free of charge, for a single friend while she is at work. And the fact that she watches this 3-year-old in addition to making the doll dresses and homeschooling her two remaining teenagers is quite a feat in and of itself!
I’m also not saying that it’s a bad thing for my mom to make these doll dresses. In fact, the extra income from her sales enabled my family to buy a very awesome camper which we could not otherwise have afforded.
I’m merely saying that whenever I look at those dolls, neatly lined up on the shelf waiting for her next creation, they strike me as a visual representation of the way my mom seems to want her life to be—a perpetual extension of the years when “helping Mommy vacuum” was a big treat, when walking to the playground with Mom was the highlight of the week, and when my sisters and I wore matching dresses and those horrible 90s hairbows. I’ve no doubt that my mom put her entire heart and soul into giving my sisters and me the best possible childhood. But the parenting techniques and general behavior patterns that she exhibits now, while no doubt very effective when we were little girls, are simply no longer applicable or even remotely helpful, now that we are all in high school or college.
I know that, in certain respects, I have a lot to be grateful for. For instance, although I still live at home, my parents have allowed me to attend a local, secular college, and they fully expect that I will get a full-time job outside the home when I graduate. So even if I never get to have a family of my own, I will at least one day have an income of my own. But the fact is that, very often, my life feels just as static, inexperienced, and immature as the life of one of my mother’s dolls. And my sisters and I desperately need my mom to see us for what we are: two almost-adults and two literal adults, whose dreams, needs, and preoccupations extend far beyond choosing between the pink and the purple dress.
-Violet
The evidence of my mom’s business is everywhere—when I come home from class, the remnants of the day’s photo shoot (to provide pictures of her merchandise for clients) are usually still set up in the living room, and every time I go into the laundry/sewing room to do some laundry, I behold her collection of “model” dolls, lined up in a row on a small white shelf, their smiling, painted faces showing how happy they are to simply wear the dresses my mom has made that day for them.
Please understand that I’m not trying to condemn my mom by saying this. There are a lot of really commendable things about my mom—for instance, she made a big sacrifice to stay home with us instead of pursuing a more lucrative career, and she currently babysits a 3-year-old completely free of charge, for a single friend while she is at work. And the fact that she watches this 3-year-old in addition to making the doll dresses and homeschooling her two remaining teenagers is quite a feat in and of itself!
I’m also not saying that it’s a bad thing for my mom to make these doll dresses. In fact, the extra income from her sales enabled my family to buy a very awesome camper which we could not otherwise have afforded.
I’m merely saying that whenever I look at those dolls, neatly lined up on the shelf waiting for her next creation, they strike me as a visual representation of the way my mom seems to want her life to be—a perpetual extension of the years when “helping Mommy vacuum” was a big treat, when walking to the playground with Mom was the highlight of the week, and when my sisters and I wore matching dresses and those horrible 90s hairbows. I’ve no doubt that my mom put her entire heart and soul into giving my sisters and me the best possible childhood. But the parenting techniques and general behavior patterns that she exhibits now, while no doubt very effective when we were little girls, are simply no longer applicable or even remotely helpful, now that we are all in high school or college.
I know that, in certain respects, I have a lot to be grateful for. For instance, although I still live at home, my parents have allowed me to attend a local, secular college, and they fully expect that I will get a full-time job outside the home when I graduate. So even if I never get to have a family of my own, I will at least one day have an income of my own. But the fact is that, very often, my life feels just as static, inexperienced, and immature as the life of one of my mother’s dolls. And my sisters and I desperately need my mom to see us for what we are: two almost-adults and two literal adults, whose dreams, needs, and preoccupations extend far beyond choosing between the pink and the purple dress.
-Violet
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