There’s a lyrically poised obstruction in this uterine vitrine, dynamically fending off all of those unsavoury dreams.

Pay attention to this over-zealous defender for she’s overcrowding this luminescent space, despite all the indicators suggesting that everything’s in place.

The wandering womb has been to blame for centuries worth of all malaise and we’ve grown tired of this erroneous mistake! We would ask her kindly to make some room, so that air can circulate in this majestic territory as she casts off her association to perpetual doom.

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“That’s me, myself and I!”, we hear you cry!

Red velour draped over the rounded table plays host to this theatrical soirée, lit only by a candelabra of three blue candles that are burning flesh, and an ovarian light bulb that sways with every laboured breath. Only the long curtain of shared black hair traces any form of time.

Not everything with this pleasure scene is as it seems, for three staged exhibitionists holding stagnant poses wane. Frustration torments the air, for the slightest shift in balance among them will alter this electrically charged, increasingly precarious, nighttime show.

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We bear witness here to an ultimate release, as this unsettled soul permits a vital unclogging of detrimental beliefs.

The milk thistle in its regal glory wraps around this colossal scene – holding space for its ethereal team to take an unrelenting plunger suctioning unwieldy depths – a true exorcism, in one big breath.

A bright rainbow has appeared in her path, fencing off tired tiles and medallions from a family past. The water runs clear, and the grasses bloom, it’s just this ovarian boxing glove that overshadows her trophy-like womb.

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Embryonic potential pulses through this primordial galaxy – blood, water, earth and fire, and fertile bags from your granny dangle freely.

An unexpected, boundary-testing trio fills the amniotic, fluid-filled belly. The silky membrane of uterine epithelial cells that keep them safely stowed is under casual attack, as two of this maturing crowd are ingesting the wall’s binding force.

With the dynamics of capillary exchange established – trustworthy lines of communication between capillary hydrostatic pressure and interstitial fluid hydrostatic pressure traffic essential nourishment.

And, although we can science this out as much as we like, we just won’t be able to miss the army of tulips that are flying their way into a welcome hall of no more current targets.

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One fine day, a green-faced, fiery-haired monster with jaundiced, dance-shot eyes unconsciously opened her mouth and a stream of brightly coloured, translucent baubles filled with deep set junk from her insides rolled on her arching, sloppy tongue towards a radiant sun.

Big cavernous nostrils keep her breathing as the constant stream of these vom-bombs block her central airway, amassing in size and speed until they meet the spindly gatekeeper – where they shatter into smithereens of shining light. 

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A long, spiked tongue extends deep into the environment whilst heavily dilated eyes show no sign of the stimulant. A thin neck sprouts through the many layers of compacted earth created across many tumultuous millennia.

Confident, matured butterflies refuse retreat, functioning even under heavy layers of the earth’s crust – reminding us that there’s a valuable, potentially acerbic message still to find its way. 

Solid soil sits heavily on her shoulders but the body emanates a shining light. An invisible blossoming is taking place below all of this hardened history, let all that hair growth on the outside be all the proof you need. 

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A small troupe of light-footed creatures clamber around a radiant spinal cord standing tall, whilst a globular, fruit laden palm, spring-fresh uterus and ovaries shine in fructuous health. 

Several pairs of luminous, bouncing ovaries wax lyrical and the interior space of this body fills up with great cause to celebrate.

Major shifts with an expansive direction are turning up for you right now. Invisible though they are on the surface, the question of dignity stands well and truly in the spotlight.

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If you’re inclined to ask this magnificent creature to apologise for pissing so freely, perhaps ask yourself why? 

It’s a rarity to come across someone so in-tune with exactly what they need in any given moment, that this is really a cause for celebration.

Eager to embrace the attention she gets, she’s completely shed her skin. Her interior wellness radiates from her inner being, dominating her immediate environment with her bulging boobs, wide hips and anchored stance.

Promising opportunities are on the cards when a peacock crosses your path, and by the looks of things she’s surrounded by a sky full of feathers. There’s complete harmony here if you make sure not to get distracted by the slightly uneven growth of armpit hair – that really isn't that big of a deal.

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Oh, how this totem of knowledge stands firm, despite her sagging skin! Unphased throughout her many centuries of vilification – accused of malicious intent, criminalised for her knowledge and forced to surrender hard-won sexuality.

Two radical polarities unfold in this current scene. On her right, a ferocious, acrid blaze and to her left, a wall of fertile corn continues to mature. Only the dry, deadened soil beneath makes for common ground.

She’s weathered many storms such as this before. Passive she is not. Her reluctance to make a move is tempered by her connection from root to sky, as she is pulsing age-old wisdom into her surroundings before her end of time.

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Up against the brick wall and nothing's budging. There's very little point in wasting energy when all you have is fire to blast at age-old stone.

Deep from the depths rage roars, and still the only things that seem affected are the now cindered trees that are vaguely visible in the distance. ⁠

⁠It might just be the right time to cool down by taking a bath in the heat-resistant, inflatable paddling pool that’s miraculously shown up and make friends with that lovely robin who seems undeterred from taking it as his space – right up next to her. ⁠⁠

If only she'd take a breather, she'd notice the ladder, still very much intact, that would take her to a place of potentially nothing better.

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A loner stands precariously with little opportunity to manoeuvre on a very small piece of solid rock, sky high in outer space.

Let’s face it, in this limited situation, planet earth is completely out of reach, especially with all that cosmic debris flying around – so the best advice I could give her is for her to stand her ground. ⁠

⁠There's not too much point in looking down in the dumps, paying attention to the flowers blooming is going to be the best way to keep her going, and who knows, perhaps those long creepers or her bushy tail will get her back down to earth eventually if, in the end, she wants to go there.⁠

It's a full moon in the present, meaning nights of intense dreams and crazy insomnia. Even if she wanted to, it’s unlikely any rest is up for grabs. So, no need for those magic mushrooms growing behind her – for now.

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A trio of female-esque creatures dance around a brightly-coloured maypole. As lively as the scene appears – chaos silently reigns. One of them has fallen and is hanging on as tightly as they can, whilst another is more concerned with making sure that the plates flying through the air land on stable ground. So far, so good, there's been a table there to catch them. ⁠

It’s bizarre that they seem to be so unaware that they're fenced into a small garden where admittedly the grass grows and the flowers bloom. But still, the wonderment of larger lands loom in the background - is it just a matter of time until they notice the glorious mountain scape, and the flowing, clear blue river that awaits them?

⁠It's a lovely bright blue day with some gentle clouds, oddly littered with stars – and yet again, a pair of ovaries are hanging out. ⁠

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There's apparent chaos here. We’ve got a woman with her ovaries hanging out, her arm on fire and a lot of metal spikes emerging from her extremely long, inflamed tongue. A bright green collar extends above her neck. A neck support or a chokehold? You choose. ⁠⁠

Pay special attention to the craftsmanship of the quilted surface in the background, the birds in the sky and the raging fire that is heating water in a cauldron centre stage. ⁠Still, something is functioning.

And, what's that? Yep, we've got a staircase in her uterus taking us on a journey to somewhere or quite possibly, nowhere.

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A jubilant creature gorges themselves on a copious amount of gold from a bottomless bucket, perched precariously in a blossoming tree, that also happens to be covered by a glorious rainbow. ⁠

There are lots of resources around – stars; some kind of flying animal; a dark, deep well with a well-kept path leading to it; and someone even made a pot of tea that is heating the bottom of the cup. ⁠⁠

This creature has their stake-come-trident firmly planted in the ground and seems too busy to notice that that's an extremely odd thing for a teapot to do.

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