Chrysalis

Cocoon (25355)

Woven into the scaffolds of my solitary sanctuary,

That also feels like a cage at times,

My armor sheds and exposes

My soft flesh,

Underbelly, scars, insides and all.

A caterpillar doesn’t choose when it metamorphasizes,

But it does know when it’s time to change,

And what it must do to prepare for the 

Journey of its life

When everything will transform. 

From crawling its way leaf to leaf,

It will

Fly from flower to flower,

But first,

It must go through

The agony of melting into

Primordial goo.

All that was together,

And all that was stuck,

Liquifies,

A second birth is coming,

Into the next version 

Of who it will be in this world.

Inside,

Cell by cell,

Everything I know,

Or I think I know about me,

Crumbles into base particles.

I am shifting 

Not because I wanted to,

Or because I was seeking a challenge,

But because it’s time.

So in this womb, 

Made by me,

For me,

I must fall into a sleep 

That’s isn’t quite sleep,

Shifting,

Changing,

Melting,

Into the next version of me.

——-

This piece took a longer time to create than I expected. It was supposed to be a secondary piece of work while I waited for my oil painting to dry enough for the next layer. But this piece ended up absorbing me….as they all do. 

It was a challenge- the larger size made the paper buckle a lot. The upside down figure, knots and tension of the ropes on skin tested my artistic skill of visually expressing physics. I erased so much I thought the paper would tear right through. 

I constantly hesitated on the next step- the background, the chrysalis shell… watercolor is challenging as it’s not a very forgiving medium- everything shows through. But…  I pushed through because this is art teaching me to let go of perfection, embrace the unexpected, and adapt and flow through the changes rather than fighting them. I cried.. a lot. Not from the frustrations of the art- I welcome those. Each tear drop held broken promises, dreams unrealized, memories missed… but they also held resilience through flow… keep flowing. Keep what works. Transform what doesn’t at the time. Keep moving- that is the art. 

With each tether I finished, I could feel my body sigh into the tension of the rope holding my weight. With each little give towards letting go, I could feel something else falling into the space and opening up.

I’ve been holed away healing for awhile now. Not cause I wanted to be, but because I’ve needed to be. And once I’ve accepted that (kicking and fighting), it’s been beautiful. Beautiful not in the flowery oh it feels so good way. Beautiful in the writhing in pain but look what’s coming out way. Beautiful in the way that wow, I thought I was done, but look I’m here and growing, facing the shadows to see the beauty of my scars and how much more I have to give and live. It’s so f*cking hard to stop running, stop hiding, and stop covering the parts I thought would eat me…. And see them for what they are. Feel them. And shift into the next version of our relationship. Hi me I was. Hi me I am. And welcome me I will be.