in which I am subsumed by art


My friend Farrin has nearly finished the piece I modeled for (earlier draft with orientation here). Incredible, delicate intricacy in ink and watercolor. Wreathing the edge is the phrase I believe in dreams repeated in many languages. Bordered by vines and flowers and firebirds,  flanked by sphinxes and I myself a kind of hybrid womansphinx. A hybrid of a hybrid. A meta-hybrid. Love. How ideal are the proportions of these wings?

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