The Lonely Spider (Spring 2022)

Bridging the dichotomous line of visceral macabre and surreal-like beauty, the Lonely Spider is a series of works that illustrates and narrates the tragic story of a butterfly expressing his feelings to a spider as he slowly dies after being caught in the spider's web. These pieces were created using my poetry and drew heavy influence and guidance from a previous triptych project using the same method of story-telling. My poetry is a process I wish to continue incorporating into my works and informing how I develop my ideas and how I approach and execute my work. The Lonely Spider combines poetry with elements of sculpture and unique techniques I've developed in my practice and explores themes of spirituality, dichotomy, martyrism, sacrifice, desire, love, punishment, and death. This piece embodies the voice of the quiet little butterfly's infatuation for the spider, with hints of the spider's guilt and penance for his dangerous and deadly nature. With added elements from a previous piece, which depicts the deteriorating mind and body of a fallen angel, such as the angel's lower body, the hungry centipede, and narrative references within that piece's poem, the Lonely Spider signifies the concept of predator and prey, danger and desire, and body and soul. Using grotesque yet eerily beautiful imagery, personal fears, and fascinations, I wish my current and future pieces will continue conveying my creative hand of poetry, dualism, and spirituality.

The Lonely Spider
(poem)

What a lonely spider, such a lonely spider.
You have such a sad look in your eyes.
Melancholic
I had a friend like you
He told me he found solace within the warmth of a
fallen.
Starved and Cold
Body burrowing deep into the shell of her skull, he
crawled over bruised flesh,
Dyed in purples, cried in blues, painted in reds, died
in blackened blood.
Bloodied
Marred and Mutilated
Trails of icy fire followed in the syncopated rhythm of his steps.
Prickling legs wandered over dewed lashes, wet with willows weeping in grief.
Lips cracked, like the cavity of her head, dry like wilting leaves and waning life
Carrion.

Winter is coming, and the land will be bathed in white.
Ice will vanquish the warmth, and white will embalm green.

It shall become quiet, as life is entombed into
slumber until mortality rises again with blossoming flora.
The snow is painted red, and skin is drained white.
A masterpiece to behold.
The hungry centipede liked the color her skin turned.
He liked the harmony of hues.
Stained and Flushed.
He told me she was beautiful. He told me I was
beautiful.

Am I? Beautiful

Do my wings look appealing wrapped in silk?

I can’t move.
Lucent webs wrap around my body
I hope I look beautiful, to you.
In your eyes, I wish to be
I pray you see me.

Lonely Spider
Your soul cries and your longing tears are precious.
I wish to memorialize your nature and immortalize your solitude
For I have surrendered myself to your truth, and bared witness to your appetite.
Naked and Exposed

Do I look beautiful enveloped in silk?

My wings are suspended and crushed by the weight of sharp threads.
And pieces of myself are lacerated.
Then your delicate prison is decorated red.
And I am cocooned once again.
Metamorphosis embodies me for the second time.

I am drawn to your darkness, lured by your nightfall.
To bury me in black.
There I’ll lay asphyxiated.
And you’ll become my Genesis,

There, I am. Reborn.

In the end, you created my heavens and my Earth.
And I laid, void of form, vacant of body, and you swam into the waters of my mind
And you rippled through my soul.
My light was swallowed, eclipsed in your shadow.
And red rivers migrate and my muscles pulsate.
And I feel your sharp fangs tear into my skin.
Restrained by your venom, hostage to your mercy.
My life is drained from me.
I can’t move. I can’t breathe.
Rigor mortis seduces my bones.
My throat burns of acidic bile, and death is the flavor of my breath.
I have become your martyr.
Raptured in tainted webs, when judgment is passed onto me
My blood tastes of red wine
Bitter and Sweet
That in which you savor.
You told me I was intoxicating
As you continued to devour me slowly.
I tasted of strawberries and rich honey. I smell of dead flowers
Heaven Scent
Potent, Addictive

You whispered this to me.
And my heart labored,
chills ran up my spine.

“You look so beautiful.”

You said I look beautiful.

“Heaven Sent, my fallen angel.”

You called me angel.

“I extinguished your vibrant blues into pale greys,
you were my favorite color.”

I am your ocean, your blues.

“I smothered your light and took your purity.”

You were my first.

“Again, another is taken from me, conduits of my
Penance. Lord, forgive me, for the faithful and
benevolent have fallen.”

I have fallen into you.

“I am sorry.”

Your eyes, you’re crying

“I am sorry.”

Such a sad look in your eyes

“I am sorry, my misguided little butterfly.”

You called me yours.

“Goodbye, my little butterfly.”

I am yours,
My lonely spider.



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