Flying with Two Wings

Shaking off the Ashes

This painting is called Rebirth of Icarus.

I relate to Icarus, but rather than my wings melting, they had been clipped. They had been clipped for so long I got used to not flying. At some point the clipping ceased.

My wings have grown back and I am relearning how to fly.

I’ve been going through huge transitions and have had the incredible fortune to spend time in the house where this painting now lives.

This piece has so many twists and turns, some vibrant and some subtle – last night while feeling like everything about my life is in free fall I sat and looked, meditated on the painting and thought – yes, my rebirth is also jangly and fluttery and twisty – I am not free-falling, I’m dipping back into a detail I hadn’t notice before – and then swirling back up.

At times, it’s just new territory, not a fall at all.

I can let it be colorful and playful and full of wild moves.

It’s funny how I struggled with this painting, almost gave up on it. And then I pushed and pushed – and it was freezing cold – February on the mountain – I was in the garage in my ski pants and several layers of sweaters and jackets. Now, I look at it and all I see is the movement and the fire to create.

And the play of light coming through the window.