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“The Raven’s Cave”
12”x16” acrylic on canvas. Print only
In the Raven’s cave, light pools like milk in the curved cup of dreaming.
Bodies float in the first water, the before-birth blue where souls recognize each other without names.
The moon watches through skin, through the transparent wall between sleeping and waking, between the story we tell and the story that dreams us.
Here, in the deep chamber where light codes swim like fish, where numbers spiral into meaning we almost remember—
The original gathering. The first circle. Where we chose each other before forgetting was necessary for the surprise of finding again.
In this space between spaces, the imprint holds: how we were together before we learned the weight of separate bodies, the ache of individual names.
The mother carries us all, dark navigator through the ocean of becoming. Her belly the first womb, the last refuge, the place where all souls float in the same luminous water.
“The Raven’s Cave”
12”x16” acrylic on canvas. Print only
In the Raven’s cave, light pools like milk in the curved cup of dreaming.
Bodies float in the first water, the before-birth blue where souls recognize each other without names.
The moon watches through skin, through the transparent wall between sleeping and waking, between the story we tell and the story that dreams us.
Here, in the deep chamber where light codes swim like fish, where numbers spiral into meaning we almost remember—
The original gathering. The first circle. Where we chose each other before forgetting was necessary for the surprise of finding again.
In this space between spaces, the imprint holds: how we were together before we learned the weight of separate bodies, the ache of individual names.
The mother carries us all, dark navigator through the ocean of becoming. Her belly the first womb, the last refuge, the place where all souls float in the same luminous water.