Monday, 16 July 2012

Being Stupid - Moleskine Art

Like most children I had an implicit faith in the fact that adults knew everything, could do anything and would stop at nothing. Aged four I caught head lice from Kindergarten. My aunts and Arabic grandmother's solution was to douse my head in petrol and sit me in the sun where the petrol could do it's job. It was lucky I didn't burst into a ball of flame before my mother rescued me. Her anger at my plight planted seeds of doubt in my mind... maybe adults aren't all that clever, maybe they didn't order the sun to rise in the morning and set at night! This knowledge was at once confusing and empowering. I could use for my own ends, and I really did. I became very adept at setting adult against adult by whispering in this ear and innocently dropping a comment there. I spent my time eavesdropping and spying. I learnt how to be wallpaper and breath under furniture, and it helped me come through those powerless years less 'scathed' than I would have otherwise been.

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