Shira Fox - Journal

01.04.2025

‘Urban emotions, native birds flying past my window. Brown brick building, concentrating on a drawing. Hours of safety, repetitive motions saving me from my past’

Today I talked about voices and safety. A lovely lady listened to me for what seemed like hours. Her dress flowing, I blushed as I talked about my intimate friend.

Drawing has been tough the last month or two. I feel like I am drawing through pain. Emotions and memories from my childhood surface but I keep drawing hour after hour.

I am going through a sensitive phase in life. I am trying to accept who I am and where I come from. I don’t think I will be accepted if I tell the truth.

I want to show the world my art and love getting praise but I don’t want to show myself. Even though that is precisely what makes my art interesting.

Drawing, writing heals the soul, long, lonely evenings filled with paper and ink.

02.04.2025

A day off life, not feeling the best. Surrounded by the four walls of my unit. Outside zombies scurrying from shadow to shadow.

The light brings safety for now.

I’m drawing shapes then colouring them in, then the shapes become a garden of my imagination. I have done this a hundred times, time after time, never the same but obviously by me.

My cat and dog are my saviours, I put a harness on my cat and take her for a walk. We visit a neighbour. A lady that has lived here for 26 years. 26 years and nothing negative has happened. 26 years in the ghetto.

Then we go down to the garden and my eats grass as I look out for loose dogs or other danger.

Then it’s my dogs turn, I take her to the local shops, everybody loves her and she loves everybody. I still feel a lingering anxiety, I’m afraid we will be attacked by a big dog.

But we make it home safely.

Now it’s evening and it is me, the pets and the four walls.

So I continue my drawing of the abstract garden until bedtime. All tucked in and ready to sleep.