AboutNow it appears very clear
that the Holy Ghost,
childhood's mysterious enigma,
is the Dream;
that way of inspiration
is always open,
and open to everyone [....]
H.D. The Trilogy; The Walls Do Not Fall 
I began this series of watercolour drawings two days after the death of a dear friend. Her premature departure and the pain I felt at the proximity of mortality compelled me to make a creative leap. My focus has become refined through the discovery of the deceptively expressive power of watercolour.
These drawings explore some of the hidden things in our lives, from the divine to the darkly opaque.
We don't often speak of ageing, or death, or illness, or unattended sorrows. We also don't speak of injury, or weakness, or failure, or shame. We tend not to mention what we can't see but perhaps we believe in and are not sure of.
The invisible world with all its splendour and beauty is kept hidden unless you look for it, or happen upon it, in poetry, music or mysticism. The journey of the soul is hidden from view, unless revealed by dreams, spontaneous drawing or religious experience. Many of our greatest teachers are invisible, perhaps dwelling in bodies we don't yet have eyes to see. What we sense is not seen, but its effects on us can be life-changing. Deep intuitive knowing that most of us experience either strongly or slightly is hidden away, often dismissed or ridiculed.
We tend to hide (from ourselves) the parts of ourselves that we regard as unpleasant or frightening and frequently our Shadow (as Jung called it) is shrouded in unawareness or denial. Having the courage to explore our Shadow can yield great fruit, for therein dwell the seeds of creativity and strength.
If only we can move it into the light.
When I begin a drawing my intention is to have no intention. I relax my feelings around the ego with its attendant desires and fantasies. Whatever wishes to emerge through my hands and the fluid medium is free to arrive. I did not consciously choose to make these drawings about what is hidden but as each drawing neared completion I could see a pattern, which reflected what is happening in my life and my awareness of the world around me. I am currently exercised in my intellectual and emotional life by those who perpetrate acts of cruelty, subtle or gross, which are hidden from us and from themselves, but which require great fortitude, endurance, grace and forgiveness from those who are affected.
Now my right hand,
now my left hand
clutch your curled fleece;
take me home, take me home,
my voice wails from the ground;
take me home, Father:
pale as the worm in the grass,
yet I am a spark
struck by your hoof from a rock:
Amen, you are so warm,
hide me in your fleece,
crop me up with the new-grass;
let your teeth devour me,
let me be warm in your belly,
the sun disk,
the re-born Sun.
H.D. Trilogy; The Walls Do Not Fall