The Third Sister — Guardian of Turning Points
I found her standing at the edge of her own shadow, half-illuminated, wholly unwavering. A girl now, no longer toddling but not yet grown, wrapped in divided tones of black and light gray, as if the moon had stitched itself into her very being.
Her eyes met mine without hesitation and fear. She was not asking questions. She was answering them.
Moonflowers cinched at her waist bloomed like milestones. She held her hand up, showing off her shooting stars marking. There was a quiet charge in the air around her, the kind that comes just before a choice is made.
To black women and girls standing at the crossroads, she offers, Stand tall in your becoming. Choose yourself, again and again.
She is the moment the dream becomes a vow. Where the path may twist, but the will stays firm. Now it's your turn to follow her forward.
The Third Sister — Guardian of Turning Points
I found her standing at the edge of her own shadow, half-illuminated, wholly unwavering. A girl now, no longer toddling but not yet grown, wrapped in divided tones of black and light gray, as if the moon had stitched itself into her very being.
Her eyes met mine without hesitation and fear. She was not asking questions. She was answering them.
Moonflowers cinched at her waist bloomed like milestones. She held her hand up, showing off her shooting stars marking. There was a quiet charge in the air around her, the kind that comes just before a choice is made.
To black women and girls standing at the crossroads, she offers, Stand tall in your becoming. Choose yourself, again and again.
She is the moment the dream becomes a vow. Where the path may twist, but the will stays firm. Now it's your turn to follow her forward.
Mixed media on canvas
20x24
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