UNDERWORLD

I found my artistry in the space between raw edges of stone and the protective embrace of liquified metal. 

Each of us are a creative portal; a conduit for life force to drip from the ethers down, down, down into the fertile soil that is the living underworld of your ancient roots.

Is it dripping? Or have you damned the flow of the divine that yearns to feel, move, contract + expand through the waters, bones + channels of your primal, animal body.

Awaken the creative potential that lies, like the coiled serpent, at the base of your spine...
 

What happens when a woman remembers that she is an animal? That her body is not something to transcend, tame, perfect, or hide. That her sensuality is not separate from her divinity. That the primal and the sacred were never opposites.