This picture scares me. I think it is the black and flowerless expectation. But perhaps in the cave there is only seed root and stem like some primordial sea creature devoid from sunlight. It scares me because I can relate to the feelings. It scares me because so much of my life all I have wanted is to be 'petted' by a woman.

This picture gives me strength. Amidst the fall of leaves and the loss of the sun there is still growth from all directions. That the roots of all these branches comes from a woman's body gives me hope in my own regeneration. That she is dressed in black soothes me. There is room for much fertility to come, only not yet.

And she is standing and dynamic and she reaching and taking. She will not die. Her sex is covered, in flux, rearrangement.

Her dying branches are angelic wings and she flies into my world and she scares me. Awakens my own dark angel.

It's Martha Graham. In some ways, I think she was a 'black and flowerless expectation - not creatively but in her emotional life.