The Pregnant Virgin

When art is born from necessity

There was a dream. A woman stood in the desert looking over her right shoulder at a huge orange moon. I realized that this “moon” was holding the light of the sun, and the opposites were meeting each other instead of fighting.

I felt the need to paint it immediately. The image didn’t feel decorative, it felt necessary. Something in me wanted to see it outside of myself. The painting came fast, almost impatiently, as if it knew what it wanted before I did.

I don’t fully know why she’s bald. Maybe it’s the wish to remove everything that belongs to the persona, to step into the world without roles or borrowed identities. Her glowing ear might be the desire to hear myself again, to tune my inner hearing back to the soul.

She stands in water. Maybe that’s the emotional depth a woman carries, and the place she needs to stand without abandoning herself.

In the end, the painting became a symbol of the union of feminine and masculine within me — the moment when sun and moon no longer contradict each other.