“That’s a bit dark, isn’t it?” Mona screwed her mouth into a pouty knot and grimaced. “Miss Liberty looks like she’s had a few.”
“A few what?” asked Lisa.
“You know, molto vino.”
“Don’t be ridiculous! It’s a statue!”
“Whatever … she’s seen better days.”
Mona and Lisa stood together and studied the desolate rendering.
“I wonder what it means,” Mona offered a half smile only half interested.
Lisa withdrew into herself for a moment, an emptiness filling her eyes that Mona found profoundly disturbing.
“What’s up with you?” Mona asked between smacks of gum.
Lisa didn’t answer right away, trying to grasp the image’s message. Sharing how she felt was going to be a challenge. Mona was easily distracted.
“I’m trying to imagine myself empty, broken and as betrayed as that poor Miss Liberty,” Lisa explained. “I’m trying to imagine everything I represent crumbling on uncertain ground and me landing in a heap with my head smashed in.”
Mona wasn’t buying it.
“But it’s just a broken statue. It doesn’t mean anything,” she whined.
“It’s not the statue, it’s what it represents ~ liberty and freedom for all. What if we forget that freedom demands responsibility; demands it be supported by deeds and not just paid lip service.” A tear sprung to Lisa’s eye. “Imagine how you might feel if the very people who claimed to love you undermined everything you represented by their actions or, for that matter, inaction. When we forget who we truly are, when we forget what it truly means to be free and are unwilling to defend that to our deaths we are as fallen as that statue. We need to wake up. We need to wake up soon.”
Mona thought for a moment. Took another look at the image and sighed. She couldn’t see any meaning.
“You’re weird. It’s just an ugly piece of art.”
Lisa turned to face the friend she realized she hardly knew.
“Perhaps, but we’re both free … for now.”
Thanks for visiting …
©Dorothy Chiotti, Aimwell CreativeWorks 2014