I was born to haul your chariot, destined to a life in your service, the idea that I might have a purpose entirely of my own inconceivable.
I think you believed I was happy: I was well cared for and nourished, and you thought that should be enough for any horse.
But I dreamed of open spaces and wide skies, of my body unshackled and free to roam, and when the opportunity presented itself, I had to take my chances and bet on myself.
You have been kind, and I am sorry. Sorry to have abandoned your chariot. Sorry to have left you without your means of getting home. But I am not sorry to have claimed my liberty. I am not sorry that I now run free. I am not sorry that I will now choose my own destiny. I am not sorry to be the escapee.
There are roles in life you fall into rather than choose. They fit so well you don't realise it's happening until it's too late and, laden with the heavy hopes of those who depend on you, you fear you may never break free from a place where everyone else thinks you belong. Hold on until a door opens, or struggle and break a door down. Take your chance and seize your freedom. Apologise or don't. But let no one else be the author of the story of your life.
Media: Acrylic and mixed media
Surface: Box canvas
Size: 20.32cm x 25.4cm x 1.5cm [depth]; 8" x 10" x 0.59" [depth]
Copyright © 2009-2021 Diana Naomi April Shaul and Jacquie Samantha Shaul. All rights reserved.