On my Own
On my Own
The nest sat a little bit emptier now, except for a few scattered twigs and the quiet echoes of what had been.
For me, it felt like watching the moon rise over a new horizon- beautiful, inevitable, and distant.
We spent years building a home of warmth and safety, only to release you into the sky, where your wings would now take you on unfamiliar paths.
You, soaring high, feeling both the thrill of freedom and the ache of separation- every gust of wind a reminder of how far you have flown.
Back at the nest, grounded, learning to sit with the stillness and trust that, one day, our paths will align under a shared sky.
We both knew this was just the beginning: for you, an adventure; for me, a new kind of waiting.
On my Own, 12 × 12”, Resin, Monotype print, Collage, mixed media on cradled wood panel
On my Own
The nest sat a little bit emptier now, except for a few scattered twigs and the quiet echoes of what had been.
For me, it felt like watching the moon rise over a new horizon- beautiful, inevitable, and distant.
We spent years building a home of warmth and safety, only to release you into the sky, where your wings would now take you on unfamiliar paths.
You, soaring high, feeling both the thrill of freedom and the ache of separation- every gust of wind a reminder of how far you have flown.
Back at the nest, grounded, learning to sit with the stillness and trust that, one day, our paths will align under a shared sky.
We both knew this was just the beginning: for you, an adventure; for me, a new kind of waiting.
On my Own, 12 × 12”, Resin, Monotype print, Collage, mixed media on cradled wood panel
On my Own
The nest sat a little bit emptier now, except for a few scattered twigs and the quiet echoes of what had been.
For me, it felt like watching the moon rise over a new horizon- beautiful, inevitable, and distant.
We spent years building a home of warmth and safety, only to release you into the sky, where your wings would now take you on unfamiliar paths.
You, soaring high, feeling both the thrill of freedom and the ache of separation- every gust of wind a reminder of how far you have flown.
Back at the nest, grounded, learning to sit with the stillness and trust that, one day, our paths will align under a shared sky.
We both knew this was just the beginning: for you, an adventure; for me, a new kind of waiting.
On my Own, 12 × 12”, Resin, Monotype print, Collage, mixed media on cradled wood panel