The Goddess inhales the whole world: everything that’s around her, known and recognized, as well as unknown and unexplored. She breathes in together with the existent and ethereal, inhaling with passion, craving for life. Craving for breath, acceptance, hunger for knowledge. The consciousness of the creator bursts out of comes into it. The only way is — to surrender. The Goddess’s strength is in her humility towards the Universe. Her power is in her weakness, yielding to it. The galaxies wind spirals in her bosom. A she-wolf is in her hair, howling at the Moon. And she, herself, is the She-Wolf, feeding the world. Her long howl cuts through the night, tears the customary apart. An artist is in the center of all, he is squeezed and squashed by the surroundings. He has brushes in his hand — the tool of knowledge of the new, of himself and the world. Angel over the shoulder, — without you fear would rip my heart. You connect and reconcile all of my composite parts. You carry the burden that I cannot afford. You are my witness. You will come with me everywhere, — beyond the end of all roads. With you, I harness the fire of Consciousness. Goddess — I — Artist — Creator — … Mother-Earth supporting me on my knees, I breathe everything in. Life begins with a breath. Each new breath is — new life.