Tether. Oil on linen. 100x100cm. 2020
Huginn (thought) sits atop my shoulder, whispering viciously in my ear, tearing at the meat of me. Picking. Me. To. Pieces. I am bound tightly, movement restricted, I can barely breathe. I am tethered strictly by five strands that burn in the dark landscape. And yet….
Muninn (memory) sits behind, keening softly, waiting. The ropes continue to burn, yet are bright in the darkness. Each a figure in my life, parent, child, lover. The reason they constrict me, that they have any power at all over me is simply, love. My loves, they anchor me, I could let go, but I would flail, lost in darkness.
My hands open in supplication. My palm fills with light, which spills though my fingers, it is a blessing, this binding, it lights the darkness. Huginn & Muninn remain birds, they still fly, even when I remain tethered, steadily, in place.