This is the second one that didn’t quite make the cut, but IS going to be on exhibition at ‘Your Space’ Thuringowa Library from 22nd. March to 2nd May, so not an entire loss.
There is a bit of a story to this but because I was under a bit of stress during the time I was painting it, I can’t remember what came first the idea for the painting or the poem. I now have an even greater respect for dot-painting indigenous artists. Drawing up the grid of small squares nearly sent me dotty.
Did you see what I did there? Sorry, not sorry.

Matriarch of the Matrix
In this technological era, I’m a glitch, buffering, barely visible
disappearing into the framework
My thoughts are splintering, pixellating
between what is real and what is merely perceived
What can I believe? Does it really matter?
After all…
‘Reality is what we want it to be’
‘The world is, what we make it’
‘We can be whatever/whomever we want to be’.
If I keep focus on the world I’ve always known
will I lose touch with those living in this new world?
If I can’t keep pace, will I disappear without trace?
Underneath, I’m falling apart.
It becomes harder to find what is true. Who am I?
Who are you?
Will I become one small dot, a little focus of energy
indiscernible from the trillions and trillions who light up life?
Isn’t that what I already am?
Life is a circle — a spiral, replicating DNA
Everything that ever was or will be
already is, exists here and now.
‘time is not linear’
it flies by. Where is it going?
Why then does this body slow, change, age, die
As I slip into that calm blue, understanding evades me
A butterfly lands on my hand
it’s gentle touch tows me back to our beginning.
Now…the world is buffering, coming into focus
I breathe deep of air filled with the heady scent
of life.
I hear nature sing, the rustle of wind, children’s laughter.
I see sunrise, a bird on wing, flowers in bloom.
This is the world I want to inhabit the one reality for me
Shards of a life nearing its end
pixellated snippets of old and new knowledge
make of this life, this world, whatever I put into it
I am the Matriarch of the Matrix.
(c) Rosa Christian.
Ciao for now,
