Truth, Compassion, Tolerance - Human Rights Art

nb, I have not been posting much of late.  In part because when I read it back its all me me me, crap grammar and limited vocabularly.  Anyway this one has been sitting in draft for a while.  Its all a bit garbled but I hope somehow I manage to get across that this Art had a profound effect on me.  Even writing this note to the post, gives me that same feeling,  I think its in my heart.  It fills it with a hope.  I will never forget that day ever.  I haven't been posting because my health is frankly shit and until it improves a little I just can't keep posting.  I can't stand the fucking pain.  Because in truth I can.  I just think I can't.

The other day, feeling a little sorry for myself.  I had intended to go to our local town to shop for some new pj's. (I spend a lot of time in them after all).  I parked in the disabled bay. Sat in the car I wanted to cry.  An attack of I am in so much pain, why did I think I could do this alone came over me.  Along with the usual, for god's sake woman, get over yourself and just do it.  So I slowly got out of the car, walked tortuously around the corner and realised I just could not cope.  Town was busy and people kept banging into me, albeit not deliberately but nevertheless, with a braced leg and absolutely no balance available, once again I found myself knowing I should be in a wheelchair. Pain so severe in so many places, bearing in mind before I even got out of bed I had tried to avoid waking up because of the pain, I should really have known better than to venture out alone.

I sat on a bench feeling so very sorry for myself.  My car around the corner would have been visible were there not a massive Marks and Spencer's delivery lorry in the way.  It may as well have been on Mars.  The same story rewound itself through my mind. You stupid woman, your self limiting behaviour is getting stupid.  The story where the Peugeot 107 automatic, which is tiny, only a year or so old, a present from my parents, which I won't drive on motorways, dual carriageways, large roundabouts, my fucking driving phobia. No obligation to read about 'that' at all obviously, the post is long enough but here is the link if you have nothing better to do!  the post where I talked (a bit) about driving, just skip the other stuff, its just stuff as ever )

Well the car is great, it does it job, its an automatic and gets me to where I will go.  That's a positive, but I am informed by Wheelchair Assessment People that it is entirely unsuitable for a power wheelchair.  So I have my lovely little car, then when I get to where I want to go.  I can't fucking walk. When OH is with me, braces on, I hang onto him and we slowly make our way. He is my stability. Without all the boring details, alone I just cannot do it.  I can't open doors, if a stranger accidentally so much as walks in my path,  I lose my ability to stand up and just fall over, without someone there to help me up there I stay.  .  I can't afford to change the car.So by now I guess you get the picture, me sitting on a bench, with a troubled worried mind, in pain, feeling oh so very sorry for myself.

For a moment, my eye was drawn to a small billboard with an arrow, pointing to a narrow alley a short distance at the end an Art Gallery.  I had not been to this gallery for many years.  Its free.  Deciding to take on board pain management strategies by way of distraction.  Slowly, I made my way down the short alley, conveniently narrow enough to be of benefit to a bendie like me.  As I could lean on either side of a wall depending on which way I wobbled.

A kind Chinese man, explained to me, in a quiet calming voice, that each picture came with a story. (I can't remember if there were 47 less or more, but there were a lot).  I sat on a chair in front of each picture my own angst forgotten whilst I read the individual story linked to each picture.  The pictures were harrowing, some gory, including torture, each however had an image(s) within the scenes which I just cannot describe, beautiful signs of hope.  Truth, Compassion, Tolerance, included in each.

It took me over an hour to work my way round the gallery room.  Stunned, shocked, overwhelmed, emotional, learning of oppression, torture.  But out of all of this, the resounding theme was of hope.

I learnt so much.  Please go to the link below and look for yourself.  I have linked to the story behind the art.  As it explains it all so much better than I ever could.  After that please click on the home button to view a slide of the art itself.

Apart from the Human Rights Art, I found myself humbled.  An hour before I had been lost within my own troubles, focusing only on 'my' pain.  Climbing into a pit of self pity.  But I am lucky, had I not sat on that bench, had I not been in so much pain.  I would have rushed along with the crowd, rushed, hurried, no time to notice the invitation to view the art. I must therefore be lucky that I can't rush.




Human Rights Art