Nature Might Have Been Cruel Jul 2022

Nature might have been cruel by ToriaManning July 2022

Nature Might Have Been Cruel

Before we are even self-aware, we are dressed in the weighted ego of those who conceived us and entrusted with the burden of their plight.

Expected to forever look up, smiling politely at all the destruction and mess that we are faced with.
As my eyes recklessly glared at the chaos that should have perturbed me.
It occurred to me that this role was owed to those who passed before me.
The self-centred creators of the lost.

Lost child, speak your mind.

The celestial bodies watched you grow and make a trail to an abstract home in the fray.
Unexpectedly you found yourself in a dysfunctional shelter for all strays.
And finally became a prey for the kindred of troubled and lost souls alike.
How could you have known that an orphan heart would inevitably produce and attract its kind?
Indulgent, self preserving and only ever attracted to things they shouldn’t have.

When the voice of light whispered to you the path to truth.
You grabbed on to it, but only because of what it could do for you.
Orphan, could you not see that walking the path of freedom could not be a selfish act?
Pain, shame and fear took you off track.

But lack of insight could be your downfall.
Your shallow sight cannot reveal your blind spots.
The fray, the strays and lost souls took your senses in awe, and dashed them against the pillar of cloud who was also your rock.

Lost child search your mind.
Nature might have been cruel, but pride will make you go blind.
As you are, you cannot save a life.
Sadly the belief that you have preserved yourself is but a lie.
The only thing safeguarded is the immortality of your insecurities and your ensured servitude to it.
You can only live as it permits you, and so will your kin.

The simple truth is,  you can get away from the fray, the home for all strays and from under the power and influence of the troubled and lost souls. To do so you must reach for the hand that reaches towards you.

The difficult truth is that you have no choice but to.
Otherwise, you will remain a lost child, even until your very last breath.

Wake up.

The terrifying idea of breaking vicious cycles

I started working on this sketch in 2019. Of all the 33 sketches in the black sketchbook, it has the longest life span in terms of the time measured from start and finish. I think it took me so long to complete it because at the start of its life, I lacked the vision and emotional maturity to carry the message to fruition. The written piece is loaded and hefty enough to decode the sketch, so I think it is not worth writing a breakdown of my thoughts and delving into what inspired the art piece. But in short, it speaks on the notion of breaking vicious cycles and negative generational patterns.

I realise that this is a weighty topic so, if anyone needs to talk or would like a listening ear feel free to message me on tiktok: @toraamanning and I shall try my very best to get back to you.

It could have been great Dec 2021

It could have been great by ToriaManning

It could have been great

The smell in the air was different, the atmosphere changed. 

The seasons always confirmed what our calendars failed to. Yet the height of the sun, movement of the clouds and positioning of the constellations became indiscernible. 

It could have been beautiful. 

Wind swept leaves spelled out the words we needed to see. All the forces of nature agreed. 

At the 11th hour, the consciousness of the earth awakened and a rhythm pulsated throughout the planet; acknowledging the gravity of these new signs. 

Compelled by these rare occurrences, it was impossible for anyone to ignore that something spectacular was brewing. 

It could have been great, and it was for a few, but only the few. 

What seems obvious to some is not always apparent to all. We are only truly as aware as our deepest thoughts. 

It could have been great, and perhaps it was. Maybe it was always meant to be this way. 

Dealing with disappointment but leaving room for healing.

My husband once said, a long time ago, that when he met me, he thought I was almost always sad, deep down inside… and man was he right. At the time, I remember thinking, true, but why are you not sad? Have you seen the state of the world?! I thought, to be emotionally unaffected by the chaos around required for one to be either ignorant, self involved, oblivious or deluded.

I see the limits with this mentality, and realise on the contrary that such mindsets are sometimes a product of one’s own self-importance. Not only is it pointless being weighed down by circumstances that I cannot control, but it is also self-destructive to do so for a prolonged period. I now choose to surrender everything to God and let things end there. ‘It could have been great’ is about doing what I can to keep hope alive, by not allowing negative experiences alone to shape my psychology and dictate my present or future. It is about making the decision to not be perpetually imprisoned in the past, in regret or in the ruins of unfulfilled expectations.

I hope to increasingly put healing and forgiveness first and to find the silver lining in everything. Even when it seems impossible to find a silver lining, I try my best to simply mourn the loss, surrender the burden in a healthy way, and move on. I trust that the rest will work itself out.

Robbed Jul 2020

Robbed 8 Jul 2020 by Victoriadeyemi

Many a time, I was told to let the murderer pass by.
Something about a right of passage. They said “This is what life is like”.

This time, I investigated before planting.
I stayed up all night guarding.
Watering, building, giving.
Though we exist in strange times, everything started to yield.
Again came the thief. Insincerely wearing the face of a thousand men, lowly creeping out in the field.

A known destroyer; with it’s mouth full of acid, drooling and devising a scheme to blend in.

I was mocked by the ‘wisest of the wise’ and was told to let you by.
No sooner than they spoke, did I realise that you champion that advice.

The funny thing is you always come here.
Yet your curse is not mine to bear.
You are drawn to me.
You see me; the sole surviving fruit on this deep-rooted tree.

I see you.

To stop you, I would have to set off the bomb attached to my head.
But see, even if it were my destiny to bring about your end…
I refuse to die with you or in your stead.

So, conflicted I ask, what do I do now?

Drowning Apr 2019

Drowning Apr 2019 by Victoriadeyemi

 

You were drowning, I jumped in to save you. 
That’s what anyone in my shoes would do.
I don’t remember if you wanted to be saved.
Sometimes your arms struggled and waved. 

Here in the chaos, I realise to my shock, that you have been drowning for years now. It must have been beyond exhausting. 

You were drowning, I leapt in to save you. 
But it didn’t mean that I had to drown too.

You pushed my head down and used me to stay afloat. 
You frantically nodded as the fetters clamped to your feet, reached for mine. 
It found its successor.

The familiar sensation of dark waters filled up my lungs. It sunk me low, until…
Darkness became my default state. 

But I knew that I did not belong there. 
Everytime death took a census, it could only mutter the first syllable of my name. 
That was all the motivation I needed to want my escape. 

You were drowning, I jumped in to save you. 
That’s what anyone in my shoes would do.
You were drowning, I leapt in to save you. 
But it didn’t mean that I had to drown too.

Soon enough, you too will realise that you don’t belong in death’s grip. 
You will finally see the ancient path carved out.
Waiting to lead you back to land.

Broken (Nov 2017)

Broken by victoriadeyemi

Broken

I think that pain gives birth to illusions.

Sometimes, these illusions lie and steal from us. They have the ability to make living feel so heavy and break our spirits.

I still haven’t learnt what the best way of dealing with pain is. I think that there is no universal solution.

These days, I simply cry out to God.

Sometimes, I doubt if that really works.

Other times, I think to myself “the doubt is only another illusion created by my pain”.

Accidental (Jul 2016)

Accidental By victoriadeyemi

Initially being 21 did not feel that much different from being 20. My thinking was; It is not really change if the same things keep happening but in a different way.

Accidental.

Tired birds singing tired songs.
Singing the same song, centuries past.
Future to come.

Are you not exhausted by repetitive things?
LIAR! in swift denial, gently coaxed by…

wandering voices; near and far.

Liar and thief: victims and oppressors.

Trapped in an endless dance, a vicious cycle.
Quick to condemn.
Slow to change.
In swift denial, gently coaxed by wandering voices.

‘Follow Your Heart'(Sunken) Feb 2016

Sunken by victoriadeyemi feb 2016

Sunken was supposed to have been done in colouring pencil. I feel like colours would have given it more life, but I left all my colouring pencils in London, and didn’t feel like buying yet another set. I already have 3.

Dedicated to strong women everywhere and to the special ones in my life who inspired this.

Follow your heart. To where? and at what cost?

Whilst he thought of ways to follow his dreams, she thought ‘how do we pay the bills and eat?’
Not that she didn’t have any dreams of her own, but she was evidently more willing, albeit reluctant, to make sacrifices. “You make certain concessions to protect your own”

Ending up deeply wrought by a situation she concluded to be the fault of his lack of consideration and egoism.

She was hurt by the thought that she would have happily supported anything, if only he was at least following the voice of God. Not that of his selfish and fickle heart.

After finally accepting that chivalry is not actually dead because it never really existed, she could really only blame herself for ever having faith.

‘Its just, as you go through life, you’re bound to sometimes forget that people are just human beings. Regardless of who they are, what they mean to you or the promises that bind them to you.’

Atashino Tsubasa. Betrayal (Jan 2016)

Atashino Tsubasa (My Wings)  By Victoriadeyemi

HB pencil and Red chalk.

My Wings

It was the sound of my heart breaking.
When I forged for you clippers to break the hedge. “Set me free?”
Instead you used them to rip out my wings.
Cracked the bones even when they were still attached.
Robbed the desert soil of it’s gold.

These are my just rewards;
For there is nothing new underneath the sun.
“Whosoever breaketh a hedge, a serpent shall bite him”

The Nightmare Realm

Nightmare by Victoriadeyemi 

The  day before I drew this, I saw some swans really up close and thought I was going to end up drawing swans. But instead I ended up sketching a person with a neck similar to that of swans.

I wanted to give Nightmare feathers on her neck but after starting with the hair, I was less inclined to the feathers idea and gave her red iris instead.

The Nightmare realm.

When I stopped feeling, I moved to the nightmare realm.
In hope that it would shock my senses back into motion.
In the realm of nightmares, I learnt that;
Sometimes the moon performs a poor imitation of the sun.
Some curses can never be reversed because deep down we are used to them being part of our reality.
When invisible snakes dart at you, they do it with the most evil of intentions.
Poison is only fatal when it runs through your veins.

Water and music have healing properties.
Fire burns but it also cleanses.

Bread cannot sustain one’s life unless it is the Bread of life.

For those with stories, both heard and unheard

For those….victoriadeyemi

For those with stories, both heard and unheard.

 

For those who could cry no more tears.

For those who would never see their loved ones again.

For those who experienced demoralising, dehumanising events.

For those who lived through hearing screams.

For those whose lives have been turned upside down.

For those who could literally feel their hearts jump out through their mouths.

For those who were too traumatised to hold on to reality.

For those who are still trying to get used to it.

For those who could not do anything else but cry.

I once survived mass killings in a civil war outbreak. Though it was nothing as titanic as recent events, in those timeless yet brief hours,  I learnt what it felt like to be frozen in a state of shock; petrified. To not know whether to hide or run, to be surrounded by blood curdling screams.

I know the sound of death.

The sound it makes when it comes hungered, in a rage, unexpected.

But what haunts me more than the experience is the thought that this is not a one off thing for some people. That some people live the trauma, as the rest of the world watches in silence whilst they die.

The world has been shattered into delicate pieces long before last week, last month, earlier this year. The world has been so broken that the stories are becoming as ancient as time itself.

Please, Pray for a better world.