Art Series Title:
"Sexual Concequences"
It is art about the SEXUALITY of WOMEN

This is a serious art series depicting serious matter.
If you are offended by the human body please CLICK AWAY.
Content warning: Some of these paintings include nudity, scenes of a sexual nature, strong, blood and violence adult supervision of minors is advised.

The images here are art representing the human body. No other artist in the world has cared so much and has painted about these RELEVANT AND IMPORTANT subjects related to WOMEN as much as I have. Perhaps because I am a woman. I am not sure why. And I paint about these subjects because they are important to me. And because women matter to me. And without a doubt, these subjects are important to WOMEN all over the world!

Also, this art series has important historical relevance since it represents the experience, related to sexuality of women in the latter part of the 20th century and early part of the 21st century as defined by one woman artist.

In this art series, I include ideas related to sexual human development, life in the beginning of time single cell organisms the hermaphrodite, the birth of WOMAN, the first experience of a woman's passion, the first kiss, loss of virginity, fertility and fertilization, pregnancy, childbearing, lactation, stillbirth, abortion and miscarriage, sexual confusion and sexual identity, sexual abuse and rape, sexually transmitted disease, menstruation and PMS, sexual secrets and the treatment of women by the media as OBJECTS and the objectification of their sexuality.

This art represents an ARTISTIC DEPICTION of the history of women at this time. And it represents my artistic opinion.

The series has been shown for the benefit of humanity at the Gallerstein Women's Center in Dallas, Texas.

This art is available for showing for the public benefit etc. Contact our gallery.


Poetry by Grace Divine 1996-2000

Her skin, yellow like the sun.
Her figure vibrant and aware.
Her eyes, fixed upon the tunnel that gave way to her birth.
She grows into a woman, blue in color, blue in mood, blue in feeling.
Her stare fixed upon the viewer, she being the viewer herself.
Her eyes and brows touching to make a cross; her perplex destiny disclosed.
And then...
She dies.
Bright, red and vibrant, like the blood running from her veins.
Her limbs, limp and lifeless, her head fallen.
Her crown, a lopsided symbolistic eight.
Forever to be born, to live and to die.
This would be her nature, her meaning, her way.

NOTES ON THE PAINTING: Here we see the opening on the upper right and the woman
in yellow representing her birth. The woman in blue represents her life. And the
woman in red with her head down, represents her death. On the upper left is the
symbol of eternity. The message being thus that woman has been, is and will be,
forever more.

Downloadable Image with poetry
(for limited use educational and informative purposes only)


Poetry by Grace Divine 1996-2000

Woman is a sexual being.
Her mind filled with passion.
Her thoughts loom like succulent exotic plants
in an everlasting garden of desire.
At first, she fights against her passions.
But she knows she can't deny them.
Finally, she embraces the entirety of herself,
she no longer has a need to hide.
She knows she is perfect in every way.
And her desire, like a powerful force,
gives imagination to her thoughts.
She is free to love, free to yearn, free to care.
Free at last to be proud of everything she is.

Downloadable Image plus poetry
(for limited use educational and informative purposes only)


POETRY Grace Divine 1996-2000

Oh, flower of youth.
Lips that bloom like a rose in spring.
Stolen by a hurricane of passionate impulses.
Her lips, never been kissed.
And then... the man takes the woman in his arms.
His body is teeming with a feverish desire for hers.
He holds her so close that for an instant they become one.
Melting together, their skins burn red hot.
And their feelings are pure, like freshly fallen white snow.
The world could turn a thousand times.
And nothing else could ever cross their minds.
They live for this moment in eternal bliss.
And such is the experience of the first kiss, the first kiss.

Downloadable Image
(for limited use educational and informative purposes only)



POETRY by Grace Divine 1996-2000

Virgin once, virgin twice, virgin a thousand times.
Countless of times have I lost my virginity,
with every new step, every rattle, every word.
I have always been innocent.
In my childhood, adolescence, adulthood and old age.
The penis but a metaphor.
The maleness but an instant.
The hymen but a veil.
When will I get used to it?
When will the pain end?
I've known you once.
I've known you twice.
I've known you three times.
And yet, I still can't phantom the features of your face.
The man in the corner.
The woman by the ledge.
Oh bittersweet tears,
red against the blue of my emotions,
what I have always known has sometimes been
but sometimes not.

In my childhood, adolescence, adulthood and old age,
I have lost my virginity at every stage.
In my childhood, adolescence, adulthood and old age,
I have lost my innocence but I have also gained.

Downloadable Image with poetry
(for limited use educational and informative purposes only)

art about sexual penetration intercourse
POETRY by Grace Divine 1996-2000

A metaphor to blooming springtime flowers.
Flowers, flowers, flowers, flowers.
Pinks, greens, blues, pastels,
golden hues, fragrant smells.
Petals of orchids, roses, hyacinths and violets.
Mixed aromas of fragrances. Scents of despair.
Teeming wild senses, keen desires.
I stop, I breathe, I loose my balance.
I forget in the red passionate moment of the climax.
The exploding seeds take bloom.
And rare perfumes in human shapes dance
amidst a rain of golden dust and sleepy air.

Downloadable Image
(for limited use educational and informative purposes only)


by Grace Divine 1996-2000

The miracle of life begins.
A roaring sound of rhythmic drums beckoning from within.
The music of colors blending into waves, forming into flags.
The sperms and the eggs dancing and laughing, holding on to life.

The female stalk undeniably she.
The male stalk undeniably he.
The he and the she convulsing into one.
And landing on a uteral wall paved with cells of colors
and streets of gold.
And life begins

Notes on the art:
Here we see the woman's uterus on the left.
The geometrical patterns represent her cells.
Then on the right is the corn stalk representing
the male. And the circles bubbles represent eggs.

Downloadable Image
(for limited use educational and informative purposes only)


POETRY by Grace Divine 1996-2000

Secret feelings hidden in my chest
Growing discomfort, expectation, Threat
Image of a baby suckling her thumb
Waiting to be born
Waiting to be born
Mountains and mountains of overflowing milk
Wanting to feed her
Not sure
At the beginning it does hurt
Like lava overflowing from deep in the volcano's heart
Tenderly and completely loving
The mother does what she must and then
Everything's fine
Baby feeding
Feeding my baby
Baby feeding

Downloadable Image
(for limited use educational and informative purposes only)


POETRY by Grace Divine 1996-2000

And what can be said about sexual abuse?

Turn your eyes away
So that you may not see
It's better to be blind
It's better not to see, hear, sense or feel...

Someone came into my house
It was dark
I couldn't see...

I don't know where my body ends
or where it begins

You say that I am this and that...
not this, not that
But in all that I am,
I am not what you want
I am less

Your hand touches my skin...
I grow cold
I put my hand across my groin
to protect myself
And yet I can not look
I look away
For I am not my own
I am not myself
I am not a whole human being
I am less... I am less
I feel the anger rise
Like lightning through my guts

I want to scream
Don't take my right
Don't take my soul
Don't take what is rightfully mine... not yours

I cry... I cry in silence
Must I wait to be told what I am?
Or do I have the strength to speak it?

Speak, speak, speak
I am more, not less
I am whole not half
I am woman and to be woman is great


So now, you can look at me
Look at what I've done
Look into my eyes
And see my tears
for now my soul is cleansed
and no one can define me anymore

Downloadable Image
(for limited use educational and informative purposes only)


POETRY by Grace Divine 1996-2000

Today I have PMS.
I am at war.
Millions of hormones are flooding my body.
The dam has overflowed.
I can't control it.
Can't make it stop.

Wait... I hear static.
My thoughts are erratic.
Everything... suspicious.
Suddenly becomes confirmed.

Look me up quickly.
I feel cranky.
A few more hours.
A few more minutes.
A few more seconds.
And I am not the only one.
Millions of women suffer from this.
Then why is there no cure for it?

Downloadable Image
(for limited use educational and informative purposes only)


Poetry by Grace Divine 1996-2000

But no one ever told me.
How could I have known?
That a baby could die before it's born...
Yousef... Yousef was to be your name.

Birth must be to life, not to death.
Women giving death not life.
All around the world.
Small tiny graves.
Small baby steps.
Sweet tender coos.
That never were .

The symphony of their tears.
Frozen on their cheeks.
Trails of wishes unfulfilled.
A pay back of sorrows .

Women, women, women...
Their place not being their own.
What it should be?
What it should hold ?
To be or not to be.
That is not a choice...
For a woman and her baby

DESCRIPTION OF THE ART - My personal experience and a dream...
This painting talks about my own experience. Obviously it is a self-portrait.
In this portrait I am distraught with pain with the still-birth of my son. In it,
I am kneeling burdened and exhausted by my suffering. At this point
bewildered by my sorrow, I am asking GOD -any god- the universe,
whatever, "Why did my baby die?" And then I had a nighttime dream...
I dreamt that I was at the cemetery. Pacific View cemetery in Newport
Beach where I was living. I was standing near the grave where my son
had been buried. (Yes, because I did bury him although at the hospital
they had given me the option of disposing of his remains in the trash.)
Back to the dream, above me, a blanket of gray thick bumpy clouds
spread throughout the sky. There was not sight of blue. Suddenly, I
heard a voice. It was the VOICE OF GOD ADONAI! This is the God of
the Torah or the God of the old testament bible who gave MOISES the
tablets with the commandments. I then asked God "Why did my baby
have to die?" In a VOICE GOD pointed me towards at a baby that
suddenly appeared crawling up the green grassy cementery hill. The
baby was obviously old enough to crawl but not walk. The baby was
plump and healthy and I could tell had a spunky personality. At that
moment, I somehow understood that Yousef had been taken for the
benefit of my other children who were still to come! But even today,
I still don't fully understand what that means. Then, GOD pointed me
in the direction of Yousef's gravesite. His tiny black wooden baby coffin
was FLOATING shaking over the hole, unable to go into it. God then
pointed me to clumps of dirt which had been neatly organized in
quasy piramidal shapes with rounded tops around the hole in the
ground. Each clump must have weighed 1 to 2 pounds. Small
enough so that anyone could hold one in the palm of their hand.
God then instructed me to throw the clumps of dirt into the hole.
One by one, I did. The very next day, after I woke up in the
morning, the clarity, intense color, and story line of the dream
inspired me and after years of not going to synagogue, the very next
day, I went to ask the rabbi (like a minister or priest) what the dream
meant. But he wasn't there. Since, I have asked many Rabbis the same
question, but saddly, most Rabbis aren't spiritual so I have received no
answers to my questions. However, I have discovered that for some
people, there is a ritual of tossing dirt into the hole at the time of a burial.
I don't know fully what that means. But if you have any idea please do
share it with me. I thank you for reading this! And if you have suffered
the loss of a pregnancy, no matter how, or the loss of a child, let me say
that my heart goes out to you and I feel your pain. I want to send you
love and hold your hands in this so terrible time of suffering. XOXO

by Grace Divine 1996-2000

Downloadable Image
(for limited use educational and informative purposes only)


POETRY by Grace Divine 1996-2000

Time seems to go by so swiftly,
Like medallions of autumn leaves carried away by rebellious winds.
Every step we take, closer to our death...
Cemetery of silence and remembrance.

And life being the short sigh that it is,
passing away with the climax of a breath.
A kiss of love, a touch of sex.
and then...


And on and on and on...

The tempo steeps.
The memory fades.
One moment filled with creamy luxurious passionate desire
The next, a steep fall into a precipice of certain death...
The death of life...

Oh... sweet jewel,
glorious crown of life's multiple gifts.
Your shine, clouded by grays of disease.
And now, in the place that we lay,
we hear the wind blow through the stones of the graves.
And it sings.
Free me, free me, and free me

NOTES ON THE ART - In the foreground a couple of lovers are engaged
in passioante sexual intercourse. In the background, in between the
mountains, we see a graveyard. This is a commentary on the great
loss to humanity as a result of HIV AIDS.

Downloadable Image
(for limited use educational and informative purposes only)


POETRY by Grace Divine 1996-2000

But does society see?
She walks into the street.
People stare
"Oh, I am embarrassed...
I don't have the right clothes,
the right shoes,
the right hair.
Vogue says...
I need to loose weight.
My tights are too large.
My nose is too big.
My proportions are all wrong.
and on and on."
Let me ask you.
When emancipation was declared,
did it include women and their bodies?

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(for limited use educational and informative purposes only)


POETRY by Grace Divine 1996-2000

What are the sexual secrets that we keep?

The eyes are the windows to the soul
Hopes fly in like birds with glittering balloons.
The chest of our dreams, great secrets holds.

Secrets that we keep from our eyes.
Afraid that we might see.
See into our souls.
The miracle of our imagination.
The nature of our souls truly revealed.
The earthly shame that binds us.
Forever to be kept from our sight
Lest our vision would get clouded.
We go blind, blind, blind...

Oh Bird of Hope, open your eyes .
And see what your are.
You truly are.
And truly be.
The wonderful being that you can be .

And then, once freely revealed,
fly, fly, fly!
Bird of hope, into the eyes of the beloved.
And let her see.
That in her soul she'll find her true love.
Her true self.
Her truest of truest of ways.
The way to the beholden.

And now, the sight at hand,
open your chest.
And let what be

what is your sexual secret? Share your sexual secrets
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(for limited use educational and informative purposes only)

All art and writing in this site is Copyrighted Grace Divine


2014 COPYRIGHT Grace Divine. All rights reserved.