Hand painted original with poem
Smoke following Beauty, she stands with matches in hand sure that she can burn the brick houses where innocence was taken and replaced with raw feeling poured into little girl drawings, doings like nets, blankets to cover the entrance to the lodge. Grandmother, GreatMother, memory keeper of the long thread, ribbon dancer weaving souls in body experience, tethering souls' contracts, she teases just enough light in us to find the spark. And we rise. We rise to walk hand in hand through chapters of change, layers of truth and defense, compassion and allowance. It is here we fall, spent in proving our passions and powers, preparing great fields growing green and ripening, returning and easily caught fire, harvests consumed. It is from the charring we rise, singing songs of praise and thanks. Sooty faces laughing tears like tattoos carved in young skin, swimming softly as bellies expand, contract, pushing forth life and its mewling, smiling, screaming allness. It is here in the singing ringing spaces of blood and bone that we rise. Here, now, we rise.
This piece is handpainted on silk charmeuse with an excellent hand (feel). One side, the top, has a satin sheen and the other is brushed. This is a truly luxurious fabric.