This is probably one of the first Super-Wax patterns. Two blocked colours are printed over the resin on a very open background. A third colour is also introduced, but without the crackle effect. Because of the emphasis on
the block colours, Super-Wax patterns are characterised by the ‘openness’ of the drawing and the space allowed for showing off the colour.
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My silence is a 27 year old young woman standing barefoot on the side of a busy highway.
I see her in my rear-view mirror from a distance standing on a hill.
She is calling me, I am intrigued. So I make a U-turn to inquire more about her.
As I approach, I can see that she is drenched and in the midst of a raging storm. She is afraid, and does not know where to turn. She speaks to me silently through her eyes because she has no voice.
In her right hand. She is holding a small stack of resumes. Each of them with a big bold black mark through her name. On the ground near her feet is torn handwritten list that says “My Future Goals and Aspirations”.
She is holding a pink mobile phone with a shattered screen in her left hand.
Several straps crisscross her chest, shoulders, and back. They are leading to a colorful array of bags dangling from her hips.
Her make-up, flawless, but I could still see that she was beaten down.
She clutches an extra-large black purse with broken straps underneath one of her arms. She tells me that this bag is holding everything she needs to get her through a typical day.
This was no typical day and she could have never prepared herself for the journey she had found herself embarked upon.
Her name, still unknown…
As I observe a bit more, I note that she was wearing a color block dress that had been stained by chunks of mud. She was obviously on her way to or from somewhere special before she lost her way.
And then I reached over to push her hair back away from her face. Suddenly I remembered her from a time and place before.
She had a beautiful soul and I knew loved her. I then gave her myself as a shelter from her raging storm.
I gently peeled back hardened layers of exterior. I realized that she had scars and wounds.
She had come to me for healing and yet it frightened me to see her this way.
I tried to apply a topical solution and move on. But it didn’t work so I stayed a while
As I explored her, I experienced her pain.
I became her in all of her cycles, until we were standing in the midst of a raging storm without a voice.
And in my silence, she then thanked and revealed her name to me.
Flourish.
