Creations Child Rising


Acrylic/Mixed Media on Canvas
50” x 50” x 2”

Creations Child was first created in the year 2000, painting in deeper layers of the dark nights and fear laying deep within my soul laced in my desire to heal my childhood… without concerning myself to what others might think of me and the depths of darkness I carried.

Day after day, night after night, painting fifteen to eighteen hours a day for well more then three months at the time. I experienced her pain, painted her experiences, and wrote her transformation in spoken work and rhyme. 

Cloaked in the bravery to face my fears I explored the shadows in the dungeon of my mind. Calling in the Angels I set forth like a warrior for the raging fire. With intention, I emerged myself fully into the experience to feel my emotions that were holding me prisoner, to recover and rediscover the lost and awaken inner knowing. 

I started out using only red and black to express the deep pain, diving deeper then I ever had into a primal space within me, I released primal tears in rage on a stage of passion deeper then I’d ever allowed myself to do. 

Later, I felt an urge to use light blue to bring healing into this place within me as well as into the painting. Therefore when guided to paint spirits blowing smoke on me for healing, the smoke is light blue, the angels carrying vessels are filled with light blue healing essence. Light blue in this case represents healing. 

In the year 2000, when I thought her complete, I performed the spoken word unveiling my transformational healing and masterpiece Creations Child at an art show in Malibu, California at the Earth Ways Foundation. 

I was offered an incredible amount after the show to purchase my painting and as a single mom I was surprised I got a very strong message to say no. I thought maybe the painting needed to be hanging in a museum where many could view the piece that seem to so deeply bless others in a cathartic manner.

The spoken word was written under the moon one night, after I thought it to be complete in 2000. 

THE POEM- In the fall of 2000 upon what I thought was a completion, this poem emerged together under the full Moon one night.   It is a compilation of poems I wrote 10 years prior to that, while in therapy, it was so intense, that often I had no words put my pen would put them to rhyme.

Prepare your self for the ultimate flight on the tail of a Dragon-
fly through the dungeon into the light…
Ancient secrets seeded
A leap in crimson rust, in light that cast shadows

Of distant memories, breathe, I trust…

Creations child awakens to unveil her wings, innocent soul, young and pliable. Born in darkness, pale plastic, shocked to the core…Mothers womb no more….  

Faces stoned and cold not a conjured friend foretold. In the present distant past, the headsman made it last…stalking his whipping post he invited the unholy ghost…the child’s wings could not grow…he clipped the sacrificial lass.

The fornicator was her headsman. She shall not want. He leadeth her to infliction, flagellation, and crucifixion. 

The colors turned to black and she lost all contact...she thought. 
Thy chains ye feel are only thoughts, terrors of darkness that ye were taught.
Blue was the color that accompanied black on her body that was beaten for her sins forth and back. 

Not a wonder she was a quiet girl, "cat got your tongue?" they use to say to her in school, "don't bring her around our group, she's not cool!" So she'd wear her clothes in layers to avoid the many stares, "what an interesting fashion", the girls her age would say. Her style showed passion and she preferred it more that way. 

But the secrets went on hidden, her body feeling smitten under clothes of baggy layers, and avoiding any glares. It's amazing all the fear that can come from those who are so dear, all the bruises they can cause, we'll just hide them under gauze. The girl in many layers tried so hard to hide the tears, but the inside was ignored, all the pain was only stored, no layers thick or thin could hold the torment from within. 

Still the fire she kept in began to melt the stones, revealing her bones, broken and burned through her child she learned… to reclaim her soul.          All lost parts of self she calls to return.
So she began talking to shadows of the past. Every time the sun went down, you could feel the darkness cast. Layers after Layer found under the stairs…pausing here and there…could there be circles not all squares, somewhere found in the roots of the stairs? 

Go ask Madonna milking the nursing breast, she can tell you everything, all the secrets of the night, the cry of the horny cat in the haunting moans of the midnight hours. There was a mystic in the air, hot and smoldering, haunting her with howls and silent murmurs, saying nothing, saying everything, hanging in the silence, waiting for the kill. 

She was an amnesiac when she heard the parasitic maniac. "Who am I, what have I become, how can I get out of this unbearable numb?" Lost in the past, she knew not it's now, she tries to escape, she has the "know how". Just block it out, make it go black, how does it work? She's an alcoholic insomniac! 
Never lay her head to rest, stay awake, medicate, fight herself possessed. 

When it was done and the hours past, the fear was gone, she's free at last, at least until the next forecast. 
She's a gypsy you see …in a world she could not feel free.
Had a rage, a giant rage you can't keep a gypsy in a cage!
A rage burning deep, need to find ways to somehow sleep.
Feelings tainted, her senses painted every night like a nightmare ticking.

Through the ancient hour of despair, not asleep, nor a dream in the waking. 
We’re all dreamers one way or another, some go on to dream and others follow their brother. The child went on to scream a scene obscene. 
No one listened to her cries; they only listened to his lies. 

In the heated perversion of truth, in a time she could not remember her youth. Crimson red on the altar of the dead. 
Green eyes spread, the hunger was never fed. 

The pain internalized, sunk into an unremembered relic, her senses hypnotized colors psychedelic. First she felt him near her breathing down her neck and she ran, then she felt him near her sleeping in her dreams and she ran. She thought he had, yes driven her mad and she ran and she ran, and she ran. 
Everyone's a dreamer, some are supremers and some are screamers howling at the moon begging for mercy, could we get it over soon. 

What if she left and never came back, who would look after and cover her slack? 
To die is FOREVER, to cower before the hour of resurrection and scorn her connection to her world she…would sever… that so cleaver? 

Counting her ten toes she wondered how she came out okay. Everyone has ten toes, so she must be okay, right? Like the roots of a tree, a tree made of Rue. There is no getting over…the only way is through. 

Her spirit is strong; it strives to survive all that was taught her, all of the lies. 

She’s been mighty quiet…  just needs some reaction, some interaction, some hippie-action, some kind of close, that kind of soul action we never choose to leave. 
…Or do we?

She does her best through intention to become the will to live, to open heart
and tell the truth, to be her self and give. 
The water bird stands guard as the child’s prayers unleash the chains of thoughts of the darkness taught. 
Angels…translucent like clouds dancing in the freedom Sun…they’ve stood nearby and wait for thy call…now they have come, they are tall.

Creations child awakens from a dream within the dream. What was once creased tight in the seams of illusions… now loosens to Light the shackles of confusion. 

Creations Child found her freedom in forgiveness, lucid in the Sun… in the Moon and in the Stars.
In the Earth’s flowers blooming even in the dark.
Riding her Dragon … bridging the Rainbow’s Arc.

Innocent’s is found in the song of the dolphins dance.
The rainbow snake transmutes the poisons…the Shaman’s in a trance.
Vessels filled the Tall Ones bring… healing her womb, growing her wings.

On the back of the dragon she flies through the doors of perception… Breaking through taught deceptions.
Unveiling the City of Light blessing magic in her Dragons flight …

She will shine forever….an Angel sharing Light..
Dancing and chanting with the stars under the night.
She is Fire…Blue Flame,
A Fairie Blessing phallus…A Magic star, no shame.

Love CREATION’S CHILD remembers…once lost the pieces now found.
I TOO have faith in Night
and the Moon I choose is round.
Brothers and Sisters of color I call you to birth.
The Hue that you are, a new color ray,
A new dance and song we bring to this day.

The Feminine Ray is the Virgin’s seed of Purity born again within us ALL…
Bringing UNITY and BALANCE back …within this SACRED call.

“Creations Child 2000” had been in storage well over a year after my living and painting overseas. One day in 2005 I sat in front of my painting again in mediation, I am always moved when I gaze into her. Never expecting I'd ever paint more into Creations Child my eyes widened and my heart jumped in excitement as chills covered my body, I saw around her shoulders the faint image of what was to become her wings in transformation, I saw rainbow colors, I saw in awe more magic to unveil. 

It took a lot of courage at first to lay more paint on her. So many had already seen her as a masterpiece and I had been offered so much money, I feared I might ruin her. Again I had to put away ideas of others judgments of me, and follow my guidance not caring what anyone else would think! 

Today the canvas has evolved into what I’ve entitled … “Creations Child Ascended”… cooling the red hot fire, through her shadow the light has filled her with rainbow hues, she has grown her wings, an d dolphin blesses as Faery’s sing and sanctify with fire, blue.

My prayer is for all the children on Earth, for Wholeness, may We support them in allowing their authentic expression and light to shine forth, for the blessings of who they truly are… our Future. 
Calling forth the strong light souls to come in to support at this time. And for the wounded inner child within to remember love in the truth of who we are in unity. 
… Bless us all with deep gratitude in knowing this radiance

is already done. Aho! For All of my Relations I pray.

Creations Child angels wings.jpeg