I AM READY … to hold my own hand



Contemporary female face from the I AM … Warrior women series.  This is a high quality limited edition 40 x 50 cms print, numbered, signed and delivered to your door ready for you to frame.

Other options available – a hand embellished limited edition print or printed onto canvas finished with gold leaf. Write to me if this appeals and you would like prices and information or to customise your size to fit your wall space.

I AM READY TO HOLD MY OWN HAND is featured in Volume 1 of the I AM … book.

Each warrior women has her own special poem which will be included with your purchase.

My new series of paintings are powerful women with a story, a history and a journey are the core of my new series of work and are available as limited edition prints on paper or canvas.

‘I AM’ – Two of the most powerful words because what you put after them shapes your reality. Bevan Lee

These two very small, powerful words resonated with me. Usually the negative brain kicks in and words like ‘not enough’ or ‘unloved’ steal the limelight.

But what if I filled that little gap with words like ‘beautiful’ or ‘complete’ or even ‘goddess’?

Step aside negative mind and let the positive mind through.

It was in that moment this series of powerful women started to pour through me as if I was downloading data through my paintings.

Every girl in this series has their own story, their own challenge, their own warrior marks to emphasise the battle scars life has thrown at them. As you look into their eyes you may find a shared experience, may feel their emotion, their loss, their sorrow. I cried real tears as these girls poured out of me, all of them me in some way. I felt their war against themselves and heard their stories.


When no one takes you by the hand

or holds you when you are scared

When no one halves the load you bear

or hears your worries and cares

When no on tends to your bleeding heart

When no one fights your corner

This untamed path on which you treat

Is the making of a warrior

Yes, they turned their heads when they saw fear behind your eyes

No, they didn’t have the words to speak sweet comforts when you cried

Yet look at how your thighs grew strong

When the paths seemed hellish, hot and long

And beneath the hand of heavens wrath

How strong became your burdened back

Though tears a plenty were not caught when pouring down your cheeks

Those same tears made fertile soil where wisdom roots itself deep

You my darling have come so far across Paris savage lands

And though at times you felt alone, you learnt to hold your own hand

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