A Familiar Solitude, Oil and Acrylic on Canvas, 8′ x 12′, Acrylic and Glaze Ceramic, 2′ x 1.5′

A Familiar Solitude, Textiles, Metal and Stones, 9′ x 3′, 2017

A Familiar Solitude
by Heather Gentleman

It is a familiar solitude  

An agony of existence                                                                                                                         
A life wrenched out of a murky chaos                                                                                                

Her mouth tries to form a cry                                                                                                                  
But she only forms a whisper
She writes on the wall with one hand but her other brushes it aside
Riparare la sua casa                                                                                                                                     
The house is in ruins                                                                                                                                 

In her dreams she follows a child who is tired and thirsty, down winding streets
She is covered in mud and carries a mosaic of a childhood lost                                                          
In a Bell Jar

She seeks shelter but has no home

Her memory is a tyrant                                                                                                                         
Her ruined lovers
Her lost childhood                                                                                                                              
Her severed hands                                                                                                                          
Her phantom limbs

Under the ceiling of oblivion she enters a cave
She has pawned her last song
Her body is in tatters
She tightens the noose of lonely solitudes
And remembers the silence of her squandered songs 

Deep in the mud
Her hands, her holy sacredness plant a seed
A thick husk
Its lips in the earth
The blackness of the soil joining the threads of her hands 

Terra sustenance : beauty, dark truth emerges                                                                                  
One in the darkness
Created in the blackness
A lamp in the abyss 

The space in which it stands lies the destiny of the seed 

She places her silver glove in butterfly wings 

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