The Enchantress

"I am half sick of shadows"
 - Alfred Lord Tennyson

Wherein it became necessary to redefine the essence of what it is when a woman fully owns and controls her own power.

It began with She who walked the forest depths, whose name I did not know. "Come with me" she beckoned amid the green-topped forest canopy, where the shadows and shade spilled indigo and violet at her feet. I witnessed her carefully removing her long white gown, a golden necklace. Her eyes haunted me, as if from a dream of another world or life. 

And then I realized the recognition. Long ago, when I had first come upon her. In a book of art, a poem. I had caried her with me for decades. She had no name, but was known by a sobriquet: The Lady of Shallot. 

"Piling the sheaves in furrows airy, 
Beneath the moon, the reaper weary
Listening whispers, ' 'Tis the fairy, 
Lady of Shalott.' 

She was one of the first magical beings I had encountered in my life, and it always pained me that though she owned all fortunes, that room was where she stayed, and to leave it brought upon a curse. 

In this mythos, the curse is broken when she leaves the lie of that life behind - the binding sash, the shadows, the mirror cracked. And instead of lying down to die, her boat drifts and docks, and she arises, filled with new life and power. 

A secret: If you look closely enough, you can still see her boat. I've left the lantern, but the candles are gone, because she now owns her own fire.

Available in the following formats: Posters - Prints - Greeting Cards