Lacuna is the Latin word for pits or holes.
I imagine people in their pits not ready to come out yet.
Their torment, trials, despair, grief is sometimes sort of beautiful and always complicated.
I recognize where they are. I’ve been there.
I sit on the edge of their pit. I just show up.
I feed the beautiful pit some light. Liquid gold I’ve collected over the years. When it touches the colorful mess, it burns bright.
A prayer that they will come out soon.
For now, I’ll just show up.
24×18 mixed media and acrylic on gallery wrapped canvas wired and ready to hang
Lacuna is the Latin word for pits or holes.
I imagine people in their pits not ready to come out yet.
Their torment, trials, despair, grief is sometimes sort of beautiful and always complicated.
I recognize where they are. I’ve been there.
I sit on the edge of their pit. I just show up.
I feed the beautiful pit some light. Liquid gold I’ve collected over the years. When it touches the colorful mess, it burns bright.
A prayer that they will come out soon.
For now, I’ll just show up.
24×18 mixed media and acrylic on gallery wrapped canvas wired and ready to hang