My wing buds were dormant for decades. Many times they tried to sprout; then lowered again, just bumps on weary unconfident shoulder blades. It took a life journey, for them to grow, strengthen, carry my weight - and soar.
Sometimes my feathers shed, not from flying too close to the sun like Icarus, but from flying headlong into controversy, activism, & when protecting. They loosen after arching my wings over my children & amidst fights for freedom. To fly free is hard-won bliss.

Sculpted by hand tools from Vancouver Island marble.