holding space. weaving narratives. making meaning.
“She tried to soar and balance at the same time, dancing into the cacophony. What else was there to do?” (Acrylic on canvas)
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“She is a woman | Of half – written stories. | The colours in her hair | Like those of her wings | Fading in their expanding edges | In an attempt at becoming | One with the world.” (Acrylic on paper)
“She sets her own dance | to the rhythm of the world. | I don’t understand it. | But man, it’s beautiful | In the way she makes me sway with her, | Uninhibited in the unique gracefulness | of her quirky love.” (Acrylic on canvas)
“She leapt past the shadows | of all that she’d known. | Her hopes ablaze; | Winds of a new world | blowing under her hair. | The believer | Had learnt to fly.” (Acrylic on canvas)
“Layering my being” (Pen on paper)
“In pieces I collect | Of the world | I come together. | In pieces | I share with the world | I shatter | Into stardust.”(Pencil and ink on paper.)