Filled with this new/old symbol of Crone, I am eager to birth her. My art becomes pregnant with self. The end of personal fertility opens a whole new generative realm. As I labor, the images that emerge are alternately funny and painful; yet I continue to bring forth what arises within me. I like the idea that a time arrives for women to replace the biology of the womb with the creativity of the psyche.
As I accept this everything about my art begins to change. I move away from biological birth images to crone figures that resemble earth divas. The fiery colors mute towards earth tones, the canvas is cut out and ripped off the stretched rectangle. The texture of what is old, worn, furrowed and in the process of decay absorbs me. Painting less, I begin rubbing and drawing with crayon, colored pencils and oil pastels. Playing with the imagery of composting and recycle, I’m able to release some of the awful fear of decline and decay.