This one feels somehow like bloodstains on the field to me. Picture taken on the edge of a field of rye. So yet again here is one of my conceptions of death; although in a different sense as the picture called "Setting sail" was.
Sometimes it happens that a picture looks really elegant in all stages of its preparation; this one did. I wish I could show you every stage, but it's more effective this way, just showing the result, and this is what I wanted to express, after all.
One more - very personal - thing. But then this IS a diary… I imagine Hecate with silver hair. And this picture is somehow like Her hair to me… even if I know She doesn't have actual hair or any kind of human body at all. The silver white hair of my beautiful Dark Goddess… my Queen… the only one I will ever love.
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