Her exile enforced a dramatic break with the past, and she conveys its emotional effects in Rupture (1955), where a solitary figure in a hooded robe descends the steps of a stark villa. She walks resolutely away, conscious of being spied upon by a ghostly face at every window. Though haunted, she's free.

Reading about Remedios Varo, I found this paragraph. Interesting because I wrote a poem expressing something like this in a previous post...

my sister's voice
calls to
me

across the void.
I hear
her,

hear her cry.
my heart
beats

palpitates
agitates air
creates transparent wind

If I could
fly I
would.

Weavers of the World

On this planet of three moons
there is a woman who never sleeps

With nimble fingers she pulls
patterns from the air

stardust and moonlight
are her threads

she knows no rest
she only weaves...

Ruptura

**excerpted writing inspired by this painting...**

1

Now I remember
what it's like

to leave behind
shadows and shades

jealous reflections
of my true self.