The postcard that arrived this morning is one of the most touching
correspondences that I have ever received from Leonard. From anyone, if truth
be told. It is a simple, blank postcard - no bright artwork on the front this
time – and glued to the reverse side is a tiny thumbnail photograph of our
finished portrait. Written above and alongside the photograph are the words:
‘Muse cornered by books 76cm x 51cm was the
first large drawing of his model, and, up to that time, the best exploratory
study. He went on to produce both sculpture and paintings of Helen (in a
variety of media), becoming the artist’s ‘muse’ at approximately 3:30pm on
Friday 12th December 2003, and from Spring 2004, the main focus of his work.
Their friendship was the source of much good work on both sides. Terminat
hora diem; terminat tecnicus opus…anyway, take care, muse; you are very much in
demand. L.’
This tiny picture - stuck clumsily with thick gloops of glue to a plain and
dog-eared postcard - means so much more to me than if Leonard had held the most
lavish exhibition in the most prestigious gallery in the entire world. The deep
emotions that the card has stirred in me have been surprisingly overwhelming,
in fact it made me cry for a while and I'm not normally a crier. But it would
take little more than a few kind words from Leonard to trigger my tears given
my present emotionally fragile state…
I have tried not to burden
you with my troubles, my anonymous reader, but it is becoming difficult to
ignore them as they encroach on most aspects of my life now. It feels as though
my world is unravelling a little more each day. The night terrors are as
frequent as ever, my sleep is rarely unbroken and it is upsetting to entertain the
briefest memory of some incidents let alone speak about them. For instance, last
night I lay awake in bed and I could feel something small, about the size of a
mouse, running up and down inside the mattress. My blood runs ice cold when I recall
the sensation of it moving beneath me. But, if I am honest, the day-time is proving
to be just as unbearable as the night-time; I hear echoes of chattering voices
like an old radio is playing nearby, I answer to calls of my name in the empty
hallway at home, there is a constant smell of burning by the kitchen door and I
often feel as though I am falling forwards when walking down stairs as though
pushed from behind by an unseen force.
The changes to my personality
and behaviour are noticeable too: I lose my temper easily with friends, family
and even with myself and I fly into violent rages when objects do not comply
instantly with my demands or people move too slowly or take too long to make a
decision. I consider myself to be a very patient and compassionate person and
so this impatient and callous attitude has shocked me the most. People are beginning
to frustrate me beyond belief and I fear that I am developing a deep and
profound aversion to humanity, but it is not a hatred of life in general
because I know, with complete certainty and sombre rationality, that the more
minor and inconsequential a life may seem, the more severely God will punish me
if I harm it (Luke says that we – and I assume that by ‘we’ he means humanity in
general - have ‘a duty of care to the inferior souls and the punishment for neglecting
this duty is magnified by the helplessness of our charge'). And the worst part of all is that I suspect
that these troubles are merely the calm waters at the opening of a great and
terrible crescendo; that these are the birth pangs for a greater torment that
is to come. God only knows what is waiting for me just around the corner.
I realise that my suffering is self-inflicted because, under Luke's
instruction, I am reading words that should not be read and I am speaking words
that should not be spoken, but my love for Luke and my eagerness to learn more from
him drives me back to these texts again and again like a crazed addict. I truly
believe that Luke’s teachings, my experimentations with the rituals in The Omega Course and my writings on this
blog are the root cause of my problems and I suspect that Leonard was right
when he said that some secrets should not be revealed and there are unseen
powers that will seek to prevent the public revelation of these secrets at all
costs. Luke tells me that I have attracted a great deal of interest in this
respect (I am not sure from whom) but he has promised that he will protect me
and so, on his advice, I am carrying pocketfuls of herbs, reciting a protective
charm whenever I feel their presence and I am taking care to avoid thinking
about my research when in public places.
Leonard knows that I am struggling and he
has commented that I look tired and haunted these days. He is keen for me to take
time out to rest and recover and so we have scheduled a series of short breaks consisting
of a few days each month (thankfully these breaks fit perfectly with my
menstrual cycle, which is a huge relief in terms of both physical discomfort
and troublesome costume choices). In an attempt to justify my reluctance to
take a 'proper holiday' - whatever Leonard means by that - I pointed out to
Leonard that he rarely takes a break from his work, to which he insisted that his
frequent trips to London provide a perfectly adequate break and, in addition, he
regularly visits his family abroad and he travels to Maryland every fourth week
of January to pay his respects to an old friend (unfortunately flying adversely
affects his health and he requires a long period of rest on his return). He also
mentioned that he accepts invitations to visit people that he has met on his
travels and individuals that he has used as a sitter for portraiture, so he is
‘actually quite well rested, thank you’, which made me smile…
