"The Portal" - Ink and Paint - 42cm x 29.7cm

This drawing represents one of the most challenging periods of my life. It’s a snapshot of me, during my Mother’s death, drawn in my own weird, symbolic way. It took me around two years to draw, on and off and I started it when my Mum was still alive, maybe mid 2023.

Some peculiar, mystical omens happened during that time, and they all ended up in this picture.

She is me.

She’s standing on the banks of dark, emotional waters, crying rivers of tears. Rivers that never end. But these tears, are falling on seeds, and these seeds are growing into new life – into trees. They are tears that lead to transformation.

This portal of grief changed me. It was the key to evolving into a new, different version of myself (one that I really like btw, but more about that another time…).

The black feather in her hair....

Two days before my Mum died, my sister and I pulled up in her driveway, and sitting right at the front door of her house, was a huge black crows feather. I picked it up (I still have it). I knew what it meant. So did my sister.

It was an unmistakable message to me that an impending journey – of flight, and freedom – was at hand. My Mum died two days later.

I got a tattoo of this black feather on my arm a few months later as a reminder.

The three butterflies....

I drew a black butterfly, and two white ones, swept into a vortex, caught between worlds.

A few days before my Mum died, I had a feeling butterflies would bring messages or omens of some kind, and I told my sister.

Within a day or two after this feeling, my sister and I were again driving to my Mum’s house in her final days, and a large black butterfly landed on the windscreen as we were stopped at traffic lights. It sat there, and then it flew away. We both saw it and said how strange it was – and scary – because we knew what it meant.

At her funeral there were white butterflies everywhere. Like a hundred. For days afterwards, there were swarms of white butterflies – we saw them while driving, on the sides of the roads, in paddocks, while my sister was walking the dog, and we sent videos to each other. It even made the news, who said it was because of a ‘wet spring’, and sure it was, but I also think it was a sign. She was free. (Pretty sure they’re technically cabbage moths, but they’re white butterflies to me…)

And the blackbird....

My Mum died at 4.44 on the 22nd of October 2023 in my brother’s arms. He woke me as I was asleep in the next room, and we woke my step dad and at around 5am we were standing around her, laying peacefully on the bed, telling her she’s free now.

It was drizzling and grey outside, and in the darkness of the early morning light, a blackbird started singing. For around an hour it sang its beautiful song. I recorded it on my phone. Blackbirds are known to be messengers of the spirit world, and I believe it was singing her home, across the realms and into the world beyond.

And the rest of the picture?

The black waters represent the depth of feeling and sorrow, that grief activates. The psychedelic cat is the guardian of the afterlife, the mushrooms, the vortex, the universe, all represents the surreal, altered states of consciousness that journeys like this propel you into.

Grief is such a teacher. Not an easy one at all – but so powerful. I’ll be unpacking this deep experience for years to come.

I also don’t know how I would have gotten through this without art to channel my emotion into, where words simply do not suffice.

I encourage you to try it one day, when your heart is breaking and bursting with emotion. You don’t need to know how to draw, or paint. Just sit down and pour your energy and your feelings into symbols, colours and abstract images, on paper.

This is therapy. This is beautiful. This is a creative masterpiece that contains your life force. It’s an imprint, of you.