Telltale Tales



Telltale Tales


On the other side of the Lion's Gate, I look back through the many circles that make up me. I have pushed through some and rocketed through others, only to find more spirals pulling me ahead. There are some sparkling links to the past, others dull in the forgetting...the various phases of me overlapping.

I can't help but touch on those memories that have touched me, that swirl into my sphere. The young girl melds into the supposedly mature woman and visa versa. And I find the same questions popping up throughout my history, important or insignificant as they may be:

Can one be ravishing with scars? Does a mark jar a neck, a fair face, or a smooth stomach? Or are we more artistic because of our scars, our great work written into our skin?  

Could it be that the sensibility of the scar–that tenderness, that puffy redness–represents the sensibility of a person? Could someone ask about it? Maybe we are touchy, not wanting anyone to touch it, not wanting anyone to go there. But the visibility rests all the same–tattletaling some part of the tale.

Are scars the same as wrinkles, those furrows of the face that are telltale signs of character? Maybe the difference is that wrinkles push from inside of us, craving to be there. Scars can fold into a wrinkle, but originally they were cut into us from the outside. 

But how many outside events also caused a wrinkle to form–a repeated smile at a kitten or baby showing off  in laugh lines, or the creases in the forehead after a bout in hospital...


I am on the other side now, the baby who has grown. She has grown into her scars and creases. So, is she charming despite her wounds or because of them? 

That's what I want to know.



Photo: <a href="https://pixabay.com/users/joaomateus-2006989/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=1198598">João Mateus</a> from <a href="https://pixabay.com//?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=1198598">Pixabay</a>


Text: Kristen Mastromarchi

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