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The Nelson Imperative w80 xh80 x d1 cm, oil on board |
This painting emerged somnambulantly from the fertile ground of dreams and subconscious mystery. It begins with the copse — a childhood haunt located in Welton, East Yorkshire, yet metaphysically rooted deep in my psyche.
The copse holds talismanic power within my subconscious. Whenever I find myself among its gnarly boughs, I know I am stepping into an ancient threshold where something potent will be revealed. In this incarnation, the copse appears in unfamiliar geography, and I discover it anew from the end of a lush garden. I see it bathed in ethereal light that deepens and blooms with growing intensity as the sun sets.
Rather than being planted in earth, the tall, thin trees stand in a body of clear, calm water, their expressive roots anchored by rocks. The scene feels precarious — poised on the precipice of unravelling. Illuminated by golden light, one slender trunk, in particular, resembles a leg straining to break free from the formation.
At this moment, the entire copse loosens from its fragile aquatic moorings and tumbles into the water. I stand in exultant disbelief, watching the impossible unfold as an age-old enchantment is broken. Five men appear, lying on a shore, dressed like Horatio Nelson. Once bound within the copse and now released.
A crowd gathers to witness this supernatural occurrence.
“The Copse has fallen,” I declare. “The Copse has fallen.”
It’s a momentous occasion.
The Nelson Imperative, in this dreamscape, speaks to all women as a call to reclaim the power long buried beneath enchantment, silence, or expectation. It marks the awakening of strategic brilliance, visionary leadership, and mythic selfhood — not borrowed from history, but unearthed from within.
While the Nelsonic figures conjured by my subconscious may be something of a conundrum — steeped in historical baggage and seemingly at odds with feminine modes of power — I take them as totemic sparks. Tinctures of disruption and awakening.
This painting is an invitation to recode Nelson: not as a patriarchal relic, but as a vessel for feminine mythic power.
