Learning how to let the image breathe. Practicing restraint, symbolism, space. Trusting simplicity more.
The Shape of Listening
Emotional Hieroglyphics
My recent work explores subconscious divination through collage and material experimentation.
Using embroidery, scraps, symbolic repetition, texture, handmade paper, organic remnants, and intuitive composition, I’ve been creating what feel like emotional hieroglyphics or dream maps – artifacts of an evolving inner mythology.
The work exists somewhere between intuitive abstraction, sacred symbolism, folk mysticism, outsider assemblage, and visual poetry.
I’m interested in how subconscious memory communicates through symbols, texture, repetition, and material instinct. These pieces are less concerned with polished representation and more concerned with emotional residue, psychic mapping, and the transformation of fragments into living symbolic systems.
Listen to the soul
Listen closely to the soul
Who only knows the splitting ground
And seeks refuge in the thoughts of others
Wanting nothing more than milk from paradises breasts
Harvested by her own pair of hands
June 27, 2021
I placed a glass of water on my alter and prayed. This weekend without a phone. Silence. Mindfulness. Sadness. I finished the book X borrowed me “Celestine Prophecy”. It left me open and searching.
Right now I am numb, asexual, emotionally unavailable, confident, sure of myself and my experience. Validating this period. I feel as long as I can see my growth no matter how seemingly inconsequential. I have to temporarily cut off X and X for my sanity. It honestly just hurts to be disrespected from them both to the degree that they do. In retrospect life is great.
January 15, 2023
I love deep feelings. Feelings that stops you in your tracks. Experiencing feelings with self awareness is even more enticing. I can do this dance and really put my foot in it. Really break a sweat. With the wisdoms of the future as a tether. Although the idea of becoming the crazy lady who wears mumus, cheetah print thongs, reads tea and palms and can tell when you’re lying but makes a game of playing along, is mad enticing.
Rest
October 15, 2018
I pray this is the last time I have to break my mothers heart… I can’t think of anything… What is the way? I’m trying to make a relationship work, everything in me tells me it’s wrong, but something is telling me not to give up.
The most difficult part of healing is the era right before the climax when the voices begin to sound the same and you must learn discernment. It becomes a strain to hear the truth; to know right from wrong.
This baby inside me is right, right?
What am I going to do?
Prepare for either and decide later I suppose.
I really need to show up for myself now. I have to prove to myself that I can do it, that I will be a successful mother. That I can be me. Whoever that is.
I pray to find myself.
Preference
The fool
March 12, 2017
Remembering
Sometimes I catch a scent; smell something, and I remember having roommates for the first time. My own room. I used to paint my naked vessel and rejoice in what I thought was adulthood. Silly naive me.
Sometimes I hear a song. It takes me back. I feel my belly drop to my toes as my tear ducts instinctively fills up, releasing the sight of my being… In the psychiatric unit having a time. I’ve never felt so safe, so understood. I will never forget my time in X.
All the beautiful lost souls I met and loved. I pray they too found themselves again. My baby, I was so young. I used to feel so sad. I am free from all of that. Hurt, pain. I am sending love to my inner child always.
Freegrandmaa 