A flower.

Naked vessel blushing on the pad of your finger.
So small,
so tiny,
a breath
could blow it away.

You wait for me to take it,
stolen identities have formed on each petal,
milleniums of surviving and thriving-
now torn from the earth.

All the while,
thin whispers
of prehistoric wars
battle inside these veins
of ironic decay.


Night Girl

Night Girl

Black is the night girl
who runs with the stars,
she who camoflauges into shadow sky.

Wild is the night girl
Who adventures in the darkness,
She who speaks with arcane hollowed eyes.

Deep is the night girl
Who whispers with the soil,
She who feeds deeply of pale-blue moonlight.

Free is the night girl
Who dances breathlessly till dawn,
She who remains grounded while also in flight.

She speaks coyote
She drinks cactus
She rides bareback
She haunts all of us

She laughs thunder

She dances firefly

She smells wildflower

She whispers lullaby


She chants toad

She weeps lighting

She pulses earth

She sings everything


She smokes wind

She spits rain

She breathes stars

She embodies arcane.


She is the biker with longhair.

She is the courage against nightmare.

She is the intensely beautiful stare.

She is the I who wills to dare.


Keeper of the Fire

Keeper of the Fire

A woman to keep the fire

A jingle of bones clinking bones

She feeds the flames steady

All alone, all alone.


Her skin may be leathered

Her eyes without sight,

But she keeps the fire going

Through the night, through the night.


A whisper to Spirit

A gathering of wood

The woman chants softly

Understood, understood.


She listens to fire

She gives it all she knows

The wisdom of a woman

Never goes, never goes.



Intertwine a River

Intertwine a River

I am sending endlessly

a stream of love to you.

If you care to follow me

Be your Beauty.

Be your Truth.

Follow me to downward streams

Replenishing all the land.

Listen closely as I feed

The animals, the trees, the sand.

Keep watch for stagnant waters

Where you cannot be free.

Flowing with my waters

Is not to Do but is to Be.

And if you find yourself stuck,

Create whirlpools, waves and mud.

For being hope will lead to freedom,

Where the Drought welcomes the Flood.


Bride on Water


I’ve been finding that one of my favorite subjects to paint is based on the theme of transitions. People, animals and shapes moving from one plane of existence to another. Imagining the impossible. Dreamworlds filled with adventure and infinite possibilities. These are the subjects of my subconscious.

sweet aiyana

Painting I did of my daughter, Aiyana.

openheart collage

One of my first passions: collage!

Just started a glue book and I am so excited! Here is the cover:
gluebook cover

A glue book is a place where you do whatever you want with: paste in inspiring clippings, collage in food wrappers and drawings, journal, whatever!

gluebook trust

It’s fun and I find that it really frees up my creativity. It helps me feed my wild spirit with words and images that catch my eye. It isn’t until the last thing is glued in that it comes together.

gluebook joy

I’ve used an old psychology book that I didn’t want anymore and I find the yellowed pages gives it an interesting vibe. I like how I refuse to make rules for myself when I do it and allow myself to not be perfect… something I often don’t do enough when I paint.

Here’s the awesome blog where I was inspired to start it: http://www.mandysteward.com/home/in-my-art-journal-3