I live in a pretty prison, in our earthly existence, we take so seriously, so meaningfully, so righteously. But in reality this body, this life is but a prison confining us to merciless doing, suffering, rejoicing and meaningless acts of boredom, killings and daily survival acts in an attempt to prettify the whole thing, find so-called happiness and consume as much as we can of everything before we find our end. To add to the intrigue we have sleep, perchance a dream, a mysterious encounter with our own shallow existence of our mind. Then we discover God, a benevolent, sometimes frightening father that dispenses favour on some and pain on others. Maybe a mother would be better? No difference really.
It is time to face facts, this pretty veneer called life is easily ripped apart when the prison walls start to narrow and tear, when there is no escape in view, no vacation from the fire eating up every shred of your hopes and dreams, and you can no longer ignore that all is illusion and you have to make the leap into the unknowable void, emptiness and scary jaws of what hopefully is bliss.
That is why I admire flies, the pesky insects that don’t mind living in shit and can birth their babies in human feces. What is waste to one organism is nutrients to another as it turns out. Just as the fly emerges from an egg and goes through different stages in life, eventually being able to fly, so do we transform from one stage of our lives into another. They can be seen as reflections of the transformations we ourselves are going through. Flies are often associated also with putrefaction and decay, necessary in completing transmutation processes. While they may be small,they hold much power in their association in the decaying or breaking down of complex compounds and organisms. They are to be admired when embarked on the journey of life and that is why I paint them in relation to women. I paint women because it is the most apt symbol of my own expression, being after-all a woman.
Putrefaction and decay are necessary acts of our growth process, both physical and spiritual, until eventually we are ready to fly, no amount of positive thinking can change the process only slow it down and stagnate it. It is like denying that we produce stinky, smelly poops and trying to withhold and deny that act. It will in the end blow us apart and make us sick.
Alchemy is turning the shit to gold. It can only happen by wallowing in the mire until we are ready to fly, and when we are, all of a sudden there is no shit or gold…just nothing, just the emptiness, just the kiss of bliss.