Esoteric Explorations

2022

Cryptic. Deep. Layered. Mysterious. Book art exploring consciousness, transformation, and growth.

Moonlight Becomes Her

Zara only came out in the moonlight. By day, she was a shadow, drifting through the world, invisible in the sunlight. The soft hum of her existence was enough to keep her hidden, safe from the harsh gaze of the world. But when the moon rose, everything changed. The night belonged to her, and in the silver glow, she became something else—exotic, mysterious, beautiful in a way that made the stars themselves seem dim.

Tonight, she walked through the garden of beasts—untamed flowers that bloomed only in the dark, their petals soft yet strong, much like her. She had spent so many years hiding in the moon’s embrace, unable to see her own light. She had told herself it was easier to exist in the quiet of the night, away from the world’s expectations.

But now, in the stillness of the garden, Zara felt the weight of her own solitude. She wasn’t just surviving. She was fading, lost in the reflection of the moon without truly knowing who she was.

"Zara," a soft voice seemed to call out from the shadows, but it wasn’t another person—it was her own voice, faint at first, like a whisper she had buried deep inside.

She stopped, the sound of her name filling the space around her. Who are you, really? it asked. What is it that you’ve been hiding from?

For the first time, Zara truly listened. She realized that all these years, she had been waiting for something—someone—to fill the empty spaces inside her. She had waited for love to come from others, to be reflected back to her from the world outside. But the love she sought had always been there, waiting inside herself, veiled beneath layers of fear and doubt.

“You’ve been hiding,” Zara whispered to herself. “From yourself.”

The moonlight bathed her in its glow, and for the first time, Zara looked into the reflection of the garden’s still pond. She saw herself clearly—no longer as a fragment, a shadow of the woman the world expected her to be, but as the woman she had always been beneath the surface. Her skin shimmered in the moon’s light, her eyes full of a quiet strength, and the soft, unspoken love she had so longed for bloomed inside her chest.

The stars shone down above her, like a thousand silent witnesses to the moment Zara finally saw herself for what she truly was: whole. Not a creature to be kept in the dark, but one who could shine in the light of her own love.

“You cannot be serious,” she whispered with a soft laugh, feeling the weight of the years fall away. She was no longer just surviving. She was rediscovering herself.

Zara reached out to touch her own reflection in the pond, her fingers trembling as she traced the contours of her face. You are enough, she thought. You’ve always been enough.

The pain she had carried for so long—of feeling lost, unseen, unloved—began to fade. She realized it had all come from a place of not knowing her own worth. She had waited for others to show her the love she hadn’t known how to give herself.

But the love was always there, hidden beneath the layers of doubt and fear. And now, with the moon as her witness, Zara was ready to embrace it.

In the garden of beasts, Zara found herself—not as a reflection of anyone’s expectations, but as the woman she had always been meant to be. Strong. Beautiful. Full of light.

Moonlight had always become her. Tonight, she finally became herself.

Moonlight Becomes Her

Book Titles:

THE STARS SHINE DOWN
waiting
REDISCOVERING LOVE
You Cannot Be Serious
Moonlight Becomes Her
IN THE GARDEN OF BEASTS
SURVIVING MYSELF
So Speaks the Heart

Just Zip It

Intrigued by fashion, fiber art and fantasy, I set out to create a large painting exploring each of these worlds. Never entirely satisfied with the result, the piece languished in storage for a decade…

Behind the Lens

She stood before the mirror, her reflection a perfect portrait of what the world expected her to be—striking, flawless, poised. Her makeup was immaculate, her hair cascading in waves of polished perfection. But underneath, something twisted. A raw ache she couldn't name gnawed at her insides, and the frantic pace of her career only made it worse.

The fashion world was unforgiving, a whirlwind of flashing lights, frantic stylists, and photographers barking orders. She was always the face they wanted, the one they coveted. She lived for the moments when the camera clicked, freezing her in time as an image of beauty. But when the lights dimmed, and the crew scattered, she was left alone. She’d stare at herself in the mirror and feel…nothing.

She didn’t know who she was beyond the lens. Her agent called. Another shoot. Another runway. She’d been so caught up in the rush of it all—pushing herself further, faster—that she hadn’t stopped to think, to breathe, to listen to the quiet voice inside that whispered, There’s more to you than this.

But what was that “more”? Who was she underneath the painted face and the stiletto heels? The pain inside her grew—an unspoken longing that she couldn’t escape. She felt like she was losing herself in the layers of her work, each one adding distance between her true self and the person the world saw.

One night, after an exhausting shoot, she wandered into a small, dimly lit café on a side street. The quiet hum of conversation was a far cry from the chaos she was used to. She sat alone at a corner table, watching the world move around her. And for the first time in a long while, she let herself feel. She closed her eyes, the noise of the café muffled around her, and breathed. I want to peel back the layers, she thought. I want to know who I really am, not just the reflection of a life I’ve been told to live.

A soft voice broke through her thoughts. The barista, a kind-faced woman with an easy smile, placed a warm cup of tea in front of her. “You look like you’re carrying the world on your shoulders,” she said gently.

She smiled faintly, shaking her head. “I’m just… tired.”

“Sometimes,” the woman said, “it helps to stop running. Just be with yourself, even if it’s just for a moment.”

She took a sip of the tea, feeling the warmth spread through her. She thought of all the shoots, the applause, the fashion shows—and how none of it had filled the emptiness inside her. She had been running for so long, but maybe, just maybe, it was time to stop. She looked up at the woman, and for the first time in years, she felt a flicker of something—hope. Maybe it was a small, quiet thing, but it was enough.

“I think I’m ready to stop,” she whispered, barely believing the words. She didn’t know what lay ahead or what would come of this new feeling. But for the first time, she felt the faintest sense of freedom—like the layers were beginning to peel away, revealing the truth underneath.

And maybe, just maybe, she could find herself again.

The Transformation

I don’t remember what sparked the shift, but suddenly, she was changing. Rummaging through my vast “library” of book titles, I selected a collection to recreate her…

The Labyrinth of Soul Retrieval

She wandered through the fog of a distant city, lost within herself, as if each breath she took was heavy with forgotten memories and dreams she hadn’t dared to chase. The streets stretched endlessly before her, strange yet familiar, like the places we visit in dreams but can never quite recall when we wake.

She had been hearing the whispers for weeks now—distant and cryptic, like voices calling to her from an unreachable place. A voice she couldn’t ignore, urging her to find something, or perhaps someone. But what? Who? She wasn’t sure. All she knew was that a heavy, magnetic pull was drawing her down an unfamiliar path. She could almost feel the velvet on iron, the soft but unyielding force pushing her toward something unknown.

“Don’t leave me,” the voice whispered again, faint and echoing. Her fingers brushed the cold, tarnished iron gate before her, its intricate carvings of lions and dragons standing like guardians of some secret. She passed through the gates, drawn by an insatiable hunger to know—to love and let go, she thought as she stepped into the labyrinth.

She entered a cavernous space, the air thick with the scent of earth and moonlight. Everywhere she turned, beautiful creatures—half shadow, half light—slipped by her, their eyes reflecting innocence, though their presence felt haunting, as though they too were prisoners of hope. She couldn’t tell if they were here to help her or to keep her lost.

“Who am I here to find?” she asked aloud, her voice trembling in the vast silence. The labyrinth responded with a low rumble, as if answering a question she hadn’t even asked yet. She ventured deeper, the weight of the unknown pressing against her like a lover’s touch, both gentle and demanding.

In the heart of the labyrinth, she found a candle, burning with a delicate flame that never wavered. A symbol of something precious and fragile. She knelt beside it, the flickering light casting long shadows on her face. She stared into it, feeling the warmth seep into her bones, and in that moment, the labyrinth whispered: Miracles can be yours today.

It wasn’t an answer. It was a warning. A gift. Or perhaps both.

“I’ve always been afraid,” she muttered, brushing her fingers across the candle's flame. “Afraid of losing myself.”

“You never lost yourself, child,” a voice echoed, warm and knowing. “You only hid, too afraid to face what was inside.”

She felt a sudden presence behind her, a shadow stretching over her. Slowly, she turned. The creature before her was both terrifying and beautiful—a dragon, its scales like molten gold, eyes dark as the moonless night. Its wings spread wide, casting a shadow that seemed to stretch forever. Yet in its gaze, there was no malice, only an ancient sorrow.

“The wound you carry,” the dragon spoke, its voice deep and rumbling, “is not yours alone. It is the wound of every soul who has ever loved and lost.” Her heart ached. She understood—the wounded spirit, the part of her that had been bruised and broken so many times, hiding beneath layers of anger, sadness, and loneliness. “How do I heal it?” she asked softly.

“By forgiving,” the dragon replied, its voice softening. “By loving with courage, even when it hurts. You belong to me, and I to you, but this love is not one of possession—it is freedom. To love is to be brave enough to heal.”

Her vision blurred, and in a flash of light, she was no longer in the labyrinth. She stood on the edge of a cliff, the wind tugging at her hair, the moon above full and heavy. She saw herself there, distant, like a stranger she hadn’t met in a lifetime. In that moment, she understood—her path had been one of self-discovery, of soul retrieval. Every fear, every trial had brought her to this point.

A lion appeared at her side, majestic and regal. “Don’t leave me,” it growled softly, its eyes full of compassion. “I am your companion in this journey. You are not alone.”

She nodded, feeling the weight of her journey slowly dissolve. She closed her eyes, letting the wind caress her face. She had always been afraid of what lay beyond the edges of her own soul, of the deep spaces inside where doubt and insecurity thrived. But now, she felt something shift—a change so subtle yet profound.

“Twice loved,” she whispered, feeling the echoes of something long lost, then rediscovered. “And I know I should be glad.”

The labyrinth had given her the tools to unearth the woman she had always been beneath the layers. The dragon had shown her the way to heal, to forgive, and to love, not with hunger but with strength. She turned and walked away from the cliff, the moon watching over her. She was no longer a prisoner of hope, but a creature free of fear. And as she walked into the unknown, she understood: The soul's code was not one of destiny—it was one of choice. And she had chosen to heal.

The Labyrinth of Soul Retrieval

Book Titles:

BEAUTIFUL CREATURES
PRISONERS OF HOPE
VELVET ON IRON
MOON
Leave a Candle Burning
LIONS IN THE STREET
HABITATION OF DRAGONS
innocence
DON’T LEAVE ME
Lonely, Sad and Angry
OUR OWN WORST ENEMY
LOVE HUNGER
LOVE MUST BE TOUGH
the wounded spirit
You Belong to Me
TWICE LOVED
A RETURN TO LOVE
And You Know You Should Be Glad
MIRACLES CAN BE YOURS TODAY
The Dragon Variation
MIXED BLESSINGS
On the Boundary
Just This Side Of Normal
EVERYBODY’S NORMAL TIL YOU GET TO KNOW THEM
PLACE I NEVER MEANT TO BE
GETTING THROUGH THE TOUGH STUFF
FORGIVING
TO LOVE AND LET GO
THE SOUL’S CODE

The labyrinth had become her mirror, her reflection, a place not meant to be feared, but to be embraced. It was just this side of normal, a space where she could finally begin again. And as she walked forward, leaving the past behind, she knew her journey had just begun.

Editorial Note: The above stories were created in a fun little collaboration with AI, prompted by the book titles and the general mood I desired for each piece. My intent was to provide a bit more of an emotional backdrop, evoking the vibe and undertones of the art.

Book ArtJacqueline BaerwaldAcrylic, Mixed Media