Acrylics on paper
Sometimes you just have to take the leap – whether it is into the sea of surrender or a stance of power.
She teeters on the edge. In motion presumably. Is she mired in her fears for a moment in the seaweed at the edge? Is this the last vestige of hesitation, the lip of the cervix in the transition phase of the birthing process? Has she already leapt and is now skidding through slippery tidal rocks? Out of control??
Is she turning into a mermaid? I’ve always been haunted by the stories of the mermaids and selkies (seal women) who painfully grow legs in order to be with a human lover and are forever torn by the struggle to return to the sea. She seems to be coming from a dark sky of mind and thoughts to a lighter watery Neptunian world. Certainly she sees her reflection there. Are those her dreams or is she scrying into the past and the future?
She is a Seer. All impressions are true here. There is no single story. It is a process. An action. A movement.
An act of faith. I know it’s me because of the birthmark on her chest. But I don’t quite recognize the fiery hair.
Is she you too?