History tried to silence her. Strike her down. Steal her identity. An anonymous woman kneels, refusing to melt.
Posted in response to the challenge Spring: Visual Art Contest.
Stolen
More by Amalie@kua
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Perfection
Can it be nothing more than new life?
Bounding through marshes
And clover
And buttercup
And moss
And underneath that moss
Death
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Shattering
Will we ever stop
Forming gaps for young children to fall through,
Teetering on the edge– –swinging their legs.
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Where my Grandmother's Wisdom Dwells
My grandmother's body slowly shifts into the rock, weaving into the dead texture. Eyes faded and grey, seeing more than I will ever know, and yet nothing at all.
Comments
I came here to speak on the mastery of snow here as a legitimate medium, for this is so much more than a snow(wo)man -- it is a true work of art -- but I want to say that your caption adds another layer to the sculpture as well. I can see and interpret her, now, in the empowered way you speak of. Her little belly and bellybutton make me smile, too!
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