When a Figure on the Wall Starts to Feel Like Us
When I think about why symbolic figures feel so personal, I return to the simple truth that we look at art to understand ourselves. A symbolic figure—part botanical, part human, part dream—acts like a vessel. It isn’t fixed, literal, or tied to identity in a rigid way. Instead, it offers space. The soft anonymity of the figure invites projection, allowing the viewer to slip into its silhouette and sense their own emotional landscape reflected back. Femininity becomes less about representation and more about resonance—something intuitive, atmospheric, and deeply internal.
Symbolic Femininity as Mirror Rather Than Portrait
The feminine presence in my work is not meant to depict a specific woman. She is a mood, a threshold, a tender force that belongs to anyone who has ever felt deeply. Her petals, glows, and dusk-toned shadows express inner states rather than outer traits. This symbolic femininity mirrors the viewer’s emotional truth. Someone might see softness where another sees resilience; someone might feel longing while another senses rebirth. The figure becomes a reflective surface, not a character. Through her quiet ambiguity, she lets us recognise ourselves without being fully seen.
Projection as an Act of Intuition
Projection is often discussed in psychological terms, but in art it feels more like intuition. When we meet a symbolic figure, our mind instinctively fills in what is missing. We give her breath, intention, tenderness, or fire based on what we’re carrying internally. The figure becomes a continuation of our own emotional logic. Her glow becomes our glow. Her shadow becomes the place we keep our unanswered questions. Projection allows us to participate in the artwork—not as observers, but as co-creators of meaning.
Botanical Elements That Echo Inner Life
The botanical elements surrounding or merging with the figure strengthen this inner dialogue. A crown of mirrored petals can echo a moment of clarity. Roots expanding from her silhouette may reflect grounding after emotional upheaval. A softly burning seed at her centre can mirror a desire we haven’t spoken aloud. These botanical gestures behave like subconscious cues—symbols that bypass intellect and speak directly to emotion. We recognise something in them even when we can’t articulate why.
The Feminine as Emotional Archetype
Feminine archetypes in symbolic art aren’t limited to gender—they represent ways of being. Receptivity, intuition, softness, boundary, depth, shadow, glow. These qualities belong to all emotional bodies. When I create symbolic figures shaped by botanical guardians or lunar undertones, I am shaping an emotional archetype rather than a person. The viewer sees themselves in her because her form reflects states that feel universal: seeking, blooming, protecting, surrendering, becoming.
Shadow and Glow as Emotional Coordinates
Shadow and glow remain central to how we project ourselves into symbolic figures. Glow feels like permission to hope, to expand, to trust our intuition. Shadow feels like permission to retreat, to hold complexity, to let something remain unspoken. When a figure contains both—luminosity at her core, darkness at her edges—it mirrors the emotional duality we all carry. We identify with her not because she resembles us, but because she behaves like our inner world.
The Comfort of a Nonliteral Self
There is a gentleness in seeing ourselves through symbolic imagery rather than literal portraiture. A symbolic figure allows ambiguity, softness, possibility. It does not fix us in a single identity. Instead, it offers a space where we can meet our emotions without pressure. Many viewers tell me they feel calm, understood, or accompanied when they look at these figures. I think this is because symbolic femininity holds emotional truth without demanding certainty. She invites us to recognise parts of ourselves we might ignore or undervalue.
When the Viewer Becomes Part of the Myth
Ultimately, we see ourselves in symbolic figures because they return us to our own myth. They remind us that emotion has shape, intuition has texture, and femininity—literal or archetypal—has a language made of glow, shadow, bloom, and quiet depth.
In these figures we find not a depiction of who we are, but an atmosphere in which our inner life can breathe. Through projection, we become part of their world—and they, in turn, illuminate ours.
