Tears from her face like the fire hydrant at the street- burst and sprayed everything in its path. She hadn’t cried in years.  It was if the water in all the world had been held back by her denial of pain and memories and then in one instant even the waters of all the oceans in the world splattered into her world.

The child at the edge of a room standing in the doorway frowns, bends over to hold his stomach, grimes in pain and then in one instant he laughs and holds his nose. His mother scolds his act of “passing gas.”  She smiles, too but in the opposite direction. His father laughs, “that’s so cute.”  The father is reminded that he doesn’t have control over his bowels like he did when he was young.  Sometimes they “slip out” and he is embarrassed and ashamed. As one grows older the passing gas is spontaneous. It is humiliating and painful.  It is the loss of control that is undeniably fatal.

Tears can be held back.  They can be distracted with thoughts and the denial. Repression works until the dog or the cat dies-maybe it’s the time your hero is murdered in the movies. It’s all about letting go and being able to withstand the pressure of release.  As humans we like to think we are logical. We’re not.

We are emotional.  The canvas, the years of our life are logical: We live. We die.  Inside that frame is art. The art of living.  Showing love. Action and reaction.  We are emotional.  Crying is not sadness.  It is “opening the vein” of emotion. It is a release.  Crying and farting indications that everything is not controllable.


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