Thursday, April 16, 2009
This is Delia the Housie, a small spirit bound to the place she loved in life. She carries no rattling chains, her glowing eyes do not peer at you from dark corners, you won't even hear the tread of her tiny feet in empty rooms. Instead she will creep to your bedside in the deepest watches of the night. You won't feel the chill caress of her lips as she presses them to your ear but her voice: soft as the rustle of fallen leaves and lonely as the whistle of the winter wind in the eaves will terrify you more deeply than all the grotesqueries and capers of her kind. She tells you your childhood fears are real, the monster in your closet has emerged and has one hooked talon poised over your defenseless throat. She tells you of your adult worries, that all your ambitions will fail and everything you feared would come to pass has already happened, that the life you have built (maybe not loved but labored for brick by brick) will fall and scatter like ashes in the wind. She will repeat for you every lie you told that day. You will relive every hurt you inflicted, small or large, intentional or unintentional. You will watch every time you turned from the truth because to face it was too hard, too frightening or too costly. As you sleep deeply, trembling over dreams of your cowardly misspent life, she will tell you the worst of all: There is No Hope.
After you have left.
After you have packed your boxes and bags grumbling about how your life here has soured and faded. Become hopeless.
After you have cheerily reassured your spouse and children that you will be happy in your new home (hoping they don't hear the false note you hear in your own quavering voice.)
After you have left,
Delia will walk the silent halls and stand alone in the rooms of ruin. She is not happy. Not happy but satisfied? Yes. She has returned to the only peace she knows. Perhaps others will come, perhaps not. If they do she will carry on. Until then, Delia walks.
Delia is my first full polymer doll. She was inspired by the piece I wrote after I woke up from a vivid dream. Thanks to the Dark Tower series for the term "housie" and "rooms of ruin" and Johnny Cash's cover of Delia's Gone for the name. I'm fairly satisfied with her. She needs a little more work and I have to find a stronger adherent to keep her on the wood base but she pretty much finished. *whew*