“Maple dripping to soil”
Our mother the earth, knows more of grief than all of us combined. Her cracked skin, chapped skin, her burning and her flooding.
Mesmerised by her sermon I’m filled with Names of the lost like stones, heavy as a heart beat for the things that don’t heal the way they should, grief needs to be held close like a sister, like she’s your only sister. her hair braided with wildflowers so tender not even the bees can bring themselves to sip from their dripping nectar, maple dripping to soil, grief soaking into earth
Original painting by Loralee Jade
Raw pigment and oil on paper
25 x 35 cm
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