This painting came with me to the undertow and rode the storm with me.
It picked me up and carried me to shore.
It wasn't an easy journey. This wasn't done in a day, or two, or three.
But weeks. Hours and hours spent with detail brushes.
Pushing the very boundaries of my abilities.
Cleaning me out. Pulled out all the wires and bits and what-makes-me-me until it reached my heart.
And plucked it from my chest.
My brains are scrambled, my feet unsteady;
when it put me back down, I stumbled along.
She was hard-won, fought for with blood, sweat, and tears.
The deepest painting experience I've ever had.
She is surrounded by Noise.
By the constant sensory input of chronic pain,
over-stimulated and straining to BE, to think, to be CLEAR.
But she's going to Listen past it all.
A week ago, I had a vision.
I was me, with feathers in my hair, with moccasins on my feet,
reconnected to my Native heritage,
surrounded by animals.
It has been swimming in my head since then,
all the peace I felt,
the Truth of who I am underneath.
That is what she is.
She is Me, under it all.
Past it all.
A Dream of Me.
Listening Past the Noise to Her Wild Self.
I am ready to Listen, to Be, to Create.