Judy Garland's portrayal of Dorothy
has danced in my mind my entire life. Unknowingly, for the most part, I
aspire to be like her: open, sweet, growing, changing, strong, loving
and dare I say, deeply sexual. She is everything I consider beautiful.
Glinda the Good Witch also resides in my soul; a beacon of dazzling white goodness. She is all that sparkles and nurtures. I dream of her kissing my forehead, during hard times. And the Wicked Witch...ah, what a good, bad witch! She remains one of the most perfect bad witches of all time, no? She lives in me too. (Probably too much of the time!)
As a child, I lived for its airing, which it did once a year, some time around Easter. Hiding in a blanket fort with just the television and me, I'd transport myself somewhere over the rainbow. Somewhere far from my home, which was rather barren and bleak much of the time. Somewhere magic ruled and prevailed.
The Wizard of Oz smoothes out the mess for me. It shoots right to my center, right to a sweet spot in my soul. It provides hope to my hopelessness. Magic to my well-worn cynicism. Angels to my devils. It reminds me of who I am, somewhere deep, somewhere over a rainbow - that alternate, perfect universe where I am whole, strong, beautiful and deeply feminine. And magic abounds everywhere, just everywhere! There is no doubt in the land of Oz.
The Wizard of Oz heals the little girl in me, over and over again. Does that sound too corny? Oh good. I hope it does.
Surrender, Dorothy, I wrote on my mirror in lipstick.
I'm trying, I'm trying...every day!
Glinda the Good Witch also resides in my soul; a beacon of dazzling white goodness. She is all that sparkles and nurtures. I dream of her kissing my forehead, during hard times. And the Wicked Witch...ah, what a good, bad witch! She remains one of the most perfect bad witches of all time, no? She lives in me too. (Probably too much of the time!)
As a child, I lived for its airing, which it did once a year, some time around Easter. Hiding in a blanket fort with just the television and me, I'd transport myself somewhere over the rainbow. Somewhere far from my home, which was rather barren and bleak much of the time. Somewhere magic ruled and prevailed.
The Wizard of Oz smoothes out the mess for me. It shoots right to my center, right to a sweet spot in my soul. It provides hope to my hopelessness. Magic to my well-worn cynicism. Angels to my devils. It reminds me of who I am, somewhere deep, somewhere over a rainbow - that alternate, perfect universe where I am whole, strong, beautiful and deeply feminine. And magic abounds everywhere, just everywhere! There is no doubt in the land of Oz.
The Wizard of Oz heals the little girl in me, over and over again. Does that sound too corny? Oh good. I hope it does.
Surrender, Dorothy, I wrote on my mirror in lipstick.
I'm trying, I'm trying...every day!
1 comment:
One day Toni saw Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory on TV and she called me up and said "I understand: this was your Wizard of Oz"
And I said, "Exactly."
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