#001 Egg—Only the Beginning
This is the beginning of a blog series exploring identity, healing, creativity, and self-expression — following my life through the metaphor of a dragonfly’s transformation.
I find the dragonfly’s life cycle to be a fascinating transformation that occurs in nature. Despite them usually being seen flying about, dragonflies spend most of their lives underwater. First, as an egg dangling above or just below the surface — unseen, quiet, hidden in dark murky water as a larva, shedding and shifting, preparing to become something else entirely. A predator. Attacking other bugs in the water and even small fish. A nymph’s stage lasts months, sometimes years. Then one day, they climb up a blade of grass, breaks through their last skin, and then flies away.
Like a dragonfly, I’ve spent most of my life developing beneath the surface — going through many identities, learning many different ways to be creative, and gathering many life lessons before I got to fly.
It all starts in the egg — the smallest and earliest stage.
No movement, no sound.
Sitting so close above the surface. Waiting to drop and swim and start the journey.
But inside, it holds everything. A whole new world of possibility and potential.
A legacy forming in a quiet beginning.
Some things in life stay the same from the very start and never change. No matter what stage I’m in, the creativity has always been there—an imagination full of love for fashion, art, music, dance, color, expression, and adventures. Anything that made me feel alive and dared me to be different, I was intrigued.
I have always had a need to stand out, even in soft, subtle ways. Not that I didn’t try to fit in; I just always felt like a fish out of water. I didn’t understand others, and very few could understand me. Overtime, I found ways I could stand out through my fashion, my art, and my writing.
I have always love to play dress up. As a kid and all through the years. While I didn’t grow up with the fanciest clothes at hand, I always made do with what I had. I did the sustainable clothing thing before it was a trend. Though I did feel cooler when thrifting became popular since I was already doing it. I grew up thrifting with my mother and my hometown friends, loving the hunt for interesting pieces and making them feel casual and cool. A whole wardrobe could be bought for the same price as a silence designer item. I loved me a good bargain. Scoring a nice pair of denim, or a perfectly fitted dress felt like a victory. When people asked, “Where did you get that?” I’d say, “The thrift store,” and feel even prouder knowing I found something one-of-a-kind item without putting a dent in my wallet.
Some days I would dress like I dove into someone’s granny’s closet. Other days, I’d slay a professional, smart-girl look that made me feel like I got everything figured out. On more chill days, I either give a sporty grunge or whimsy earth-lover vibe. My style often comes from the details and intentions I put into an outfit. Sewing allows me to do that too — adding small details can make the biggest changes. Overall, I don't feel like I have any specific style; my style changes when I am adapt to each new phase — just like my art.
While art is a more silent form of expression, it speaks in ways words cannot. Your art style is your voice without having to say who you are. I do not stick to one medium, just as I don’t stick to one aesthetic. I lean toward painting landscapes when I seek mediation and grounding. I imagine and create the places I want to be. Color pencils and oil pastels are used to create portraits. Even mixed mediums convey a self of in habilitated self-expression. There is an abstract expression in my art, too, especially in self-portraits. I’m feel as if I’m there but not fully there. More like an enigma. I want you to see my soul than my flesh.
My art is inspired by minimalism and texture. The art I create it meant to bring out a certain feeling. Painting is meditative for me. Mixing colors and blending shades into something entirely new — something that couldn’t be replicated without intention. That uniqueness feels similar to working with mixed media: instead of blending paints, you’re layering scraps and textures onto a canvas. It can be weird, neat or chaotic, but it still represents you. What can’t be said with words can be said through art.
Words hold power. They become echos of vibration sent out into the void. What you say is who you are and what you become. Words may be invisible, but they can manifest into a physical form: pain, joy, grief, peace, even safety.
I found solace in my writing before I could find it in my voice.
There were times I couldn’t talk about the things I wanted to say aloud, so writing became my only strength. There’s no memory of why I was hiding my voice from, but when I started journaling, my source of expression. A throat activation. I couldn’t stop writing, even when my wrist ached. I discovered the power of the written word. Writing lead to creating ideas I never previously even thought of — like creating an online ecosystem for my creative outlets.
Learning and practicing all these skills has lead me here — to lay these eggs in fertile lands and let them grow. To share with others what I have to offer.
At some point I did drop from the comfort of my egg into the water and became a nymph — ready to swim and shed skins to grow into becoming a master predator.
Chronicles of the Marsh is where my legacy begins and lives.
This is where it is born, where it will grow, and will learn to fly.
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Thank you for reading. This is only the beginning of my storytelling journey of the gifts and talents I’ve cultivated and will share with others.
In the next chapter of this four-part series, we’ll wade a little deeper — into the nymphs stage — the part of me that learned how to survive beneath the surface.
I’ll share the stories behind the skins I’ve shed and the lessons I carried with me before my emergence.
New posts are on the 25th of every month. Follow my @chroncilesofthemarsh to get updates, behind-the-scenes thoughts, and to share your answers to the journaling prompts with my personal account @marshymarlowe (:
Before I go, I want to turn this reflection towards you.
Every artist starts as an egg—small, unseen, but filled with potential. So I’ll ask you…
Where does your creativity come from?
What sparks your creativity when it feels dim or distant?
How would you describe your personal style— in fashion, art, or even in the way you move through life?
What’s your art forms feel like home to you?
What kind of legacy do you want to leave behind?
Who else feels like they’re in their beginning phase — still growing, and still learning? How are you nurturing your craft right now?
Choose one, or all of them, and journal/discuss with yourself the answers. Feel free to share your answers with me by leaving a comment on my post or a DM.
Until next time— Welcome to Chronicles of a Dragonfly the series. The journey has only just begun.
