Regeneration
Words are blades of grass pushing past the obstacles, sprouting on the page; the spirit of the words moving in the body is as concrete as flesh and as palpable; the hunger to create is as substantial as fingers and hand. Gloria Anzaldua Submit Your Art and Writing to WAVES “Breathing Life into Venus, Breathing Life into Self” by Tereza Swanda What does my art mean to me:...
Le transformationi de Gabrielle by Deborah de Prieto
“Le transformationi de Gabrielle” by Deborah de Prieto ____________________ Share your response to this work, in any form, here Deborah de Prieto Artist Statement: Le transformationi de Gabrielle (Oil on Antique Wood Panel, Private Collection, 2’ High x 2’ Wide) The archetypal image represents a big Dream drawn from the archetypes of the collective unconscious bringing a message from the...
My Creative Identity by Jennifer Tehani Sarreal
“My Creative Identity” by Jennifer Tehani Sarreal As a creative woman, I define my creative identity in the following way: Who I am is a dancer… whether I dance or not in this world. Movement of soul, of body, of mind… that’s what keeps me growing. At this stage of my life, I ask myself who is a dancer who does not dance? Still a dancer. It is who I am – even when the stage stops and the...
Breathing Life into Venus, Breathing Life into Self by Tereza Swanda
“Breathing Life into Venus, Breathing Life into Self” by Tereza Swanda What does my writing/art mean to me? It’s freedom. No boundaries, no frame. An investment into play, knowing that if I just let ‘self’ go, the fluidity of paint creates not only the image but something much more: a relationship between me, the paint, and the viewer, something eternal, a trace, a memory, a feeling,...
Abandoned Garden by Ellaraine Lockie
“Abandoned Garden” by Ellaraine Lockie Lying on the long side of time a partially buried Meissen vase Crackled like paper crunched in the fist of an accident Its mouth growing sweet peas and pansies A pioneer woman’s attempt to civilize an untamed land As though she were out gathering a bouquet for a quilting bee in her homestead house when some tragedy befell her The house now as much a ghost as she...
We have always known each other. Our cells breathe the same song. Our kin is paper, canvas, cloth. The light that surrounds our bodies is the first light of morning.
Susan Roney-O’Brien
. . .
The Q: How do we move from oneself to oneness?
Recent From Waves
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the cresting wave Nov 28, 2025
