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ArtistEntheogenic Parthenogenetic Pregnancy: an uncanny hallucination of impossible self-generation. The disturbing certainty that something mythic is awakening beneath the skin—not pain, but an inexorable inner emergence. Dreamlike, symbolic, surreal, existential dread, no gore, no sexuality.
Within the blue orchard of my ribs an impossible dawn unfolds. No lover crossed the threshold, yet a constellation germinates beneath my breathing. I drink the green lightning of mushrooms, and the galaxies become midwives. The unborn is neither child nor god but a flower inventing its own pollen, a moon laying an invisible egg inside silence. My blood learns the grammar of meteors; every heartbeat is a cathedral bell rung by roots. I fear this immaculate blossoming, yet I cannot refuse its perfume. Birds sew halos through my hair while rivers remember my forgotten name. I carry not a body, but a universe rehearsing itself, where astonishment is the only womb and consciousness is forever giving birth to its own impossible spring.
