Diana Shaul Fine Art

Story: I didn't think I could ever find my way back here. I thought I'd never be able to belong here again, to feel safe just sitting on a branch and breathing in the scent of pink blossoms. But here I am. You see, this beautiful place belongs to those who can fly. And a while ago, I lost my wings.

I didn't mean to lose them. In fact, I'd been flying perfectly well for a long time when it happened. But then the walls rose up, all of a sudden, and I couldn't fly any more. I'll explain: whenever I looked for a runway – a patch of flat land where I could run faster and faster, accelerating until I took off – I could see only walls. Brick walls. Concrete walls. Stone walls. In every direction, only walls. Walls that were, as it turned out, built by me. And when I tried to spread my wings, just to stretch them, I found that they weren't even there.

I was the architect of my own obstacles, the destroyer of my own wings. And wings are easy to tear. They are powerful but fragile things, supported by inner strength and torn apart by doubts. Mine were shredded by my own mind while I was busy constructing walls. It took me a while to figure that out. But eventually I realised that if I had caused the loss of my own wings, I might be able to get them back.

Sometimes now, even as I'm sitting here, I have moments when I'm scared that I'll slip, that I'll slide off this branch and find myself just falling through the sky, out of control. But I quickly banish thoughts like that. Instead, I remind myself that I earned back my wings, that I fought hard for them and won. And I picture myself running faster and faster and taking off into an endless sky.

Media: Acrylic and mixed media

Surface: Box canvas

Size: 30cm x 40cm x 1.5cm [depth]; 11.81" x 15.75" x 0.59" [depth]