HER GARDEN

'She spent her darkest days planting precious seeds, deep down in the depths of her heart. Knowing that when the light came, after so many years of rain. She would live in her garden forever...'

Her Garden: Cultivating a World of Beauty

I want to live in a world of beauty, love and light. I want the internal expression of self to bloom out of my chest and grow wild flowers that surround me like my own personal Garden of Eden, birthed from my heart through my body and into the world. I want to invite those I love into my garden. Show them the beauty of my soul and express unconditional universal love with natures enduring abundance and inspiring magnificence.

I want to grow a world of beauty and light from the soil I have collected and the seeds I have protected and nurtured in the darkness that has been my life.

Can a woman truly forge this utopian realm? And if she breathes life into this world, how does she nurture its existence? Might others wander into her sanctum, their steps treading upon her hallowed ground? Could they taint her verdant meadows or pluck her fragile blooms? If such adversities befell her, could she summon the valour and unwavering resilience to resurrect it anew, birthing it from the depths of her being once more?

In the tale of creation, where dreams alight and possibilities unfurl, a woman weaves her world with threads of intention and hope. Yet, as the tapestry of her aspirations begins to take shape, questions linger like ethereal mist, shrouding her path.

The delicate seeds of her desires can flourish amid the footsteps of others and the garden of her soul, resplendent with its untamed grasses and tender blossoms can sustain the hands of intruders if the fragility of her sacred landscape is protected.

I imagine myself as a character in a Del Kathryn Barton painting. As an abstracted body in nature with roots, feathers, breasts and flowers. She is of leaves, petals and skins and openings. She is a sub-morph of nature’s greatest expressions. She is an explosion of growth, colour and life. I imagine myself sprouting vines. I imagine myself extending and branching out in some time-lapse sensoria euphoria. Here I am a growing orgasm of self-expression, of freedom and pure creationist femininity.

I imagine the world I want to create from my purest place in my heart. I mourn for it only exists in my imagination. I mourn for the disparity between what is and what could be. I mourn for the ‘me’ that I restricted and have allowed myself to be.

I want to live in my sensorial utopian garden. I want to make it real. I want to experience the fertile and everlasting landscape that lives deep within of me. I want to see it grow, expand and bloom.

What could we birth? What could we grow? What abundant garden could you allow to bloom from inside you and sprout it out into your world…?

'And from the rain that had filled up her heart. A thousand flowers bloomed in her world…'