“She doesn’t light the fire to destroy. She lights it to become."

They say she walked into town just as the sky split open—

dust swirling around her like a veil, the sun lowering itself in reverence.

Not a soul knew where she came from,

but everyone knew what she carried.

She was made of silence and heat.

The kind of silence that follows a storm.

The kind of heat that doesn’t burn—it transforms.

🔥 Her Story

She stands tall—60 inches high by 48 inches wide. She is not small. She is not subtle. She takes up space, and she does so unapologetically.

She does not shrink. She does not hesitate. She commands the room simply by existing.

She does not ask for permission—she owns it.

She embodies presence, power, and unshakable confidence.

She was born from fire, painted with the energy of a woman who has walked through flames and emerged not just intact, but transformed—stronger, wiser, untouchable. She is the embodiment of resilience, of the moment after the battle when the warrior stands still, breathing deep, surveying all that she has conquered.

She carries the spirit of Annie Oakley, a name that echoes with quiet strength. A woman who did not need to boast, did not need to scream, yet demanded to be seen. A woman who could shoot straight, speak her truth, and hold both grace and grit in the same breath.

She stands where the fire ended—and everything began.

Why Annie?

Because Annie was a woman who carved her own path in a world that told her she didn’t belong.She knew her worth. She knew her power.

She didn’t need to prove it—she simply lived it. She was not loud, but she was never overlooked. She was not reckless, but she was unstoppable. She was soft yet fierce, poised yet wild.

The kind of strength that lingers. The kind of presence that changes the air.

That is the energy of The Firestarter—a force that doesn’t demand attention but draws it in nonetheless.

🔥 Why "The Firestarter"?

Because a firestarter is not just someone who plays with flames. She’s a catalyst. A force of transformation. She doesn’t wait for permission. She ignites.

She sparks change, breathes life into stagnant spaces, sets things in motion.

She is the match that lights the way, the ember that refuses to die, the warmth that lingers long after the blaze fades.

But she is not chaos. She is not destruction for the sake of drama.

Her fire is sacred. Her burn is intentional.

She has already let the past go up in smoke. The rage is behind her. The storm has passed.

And now?

Now, she sits in her power.

She is steady.

Knowing.

Unshaken.

There’s something about that kind of strength—the kind that no longer needs to burn,yet still radiates heat.

She doesn’t move. Yet the energy shifts.

She doesn’t speak. Yet she whispers:

"Hold your ground. Stand in your truth. Be unbreakable."

The Energy She Carries

Once, there was a woman who burned.

Not from anger, but from truth.

She had been through trials no one saw.

Fires that came without warning.

Loss that didn’t ask for permission.

She didn’t rise from the ashes.

She walked through them.

Step by step, breath by breath.

When she arrived in this form—this guide—

she didn’t come to fight. She came to remember.

To remind us what it means to take up space with dignity.

To claim presence, not as performance,

but as birthright.

She doesn’t ask for attention.

But the air around her shifts.

Plants grow toward her.

Birds pause mid-flight.

Even time seems to slow down in her presence.

This Spirit Guide holds the medicine of restraint.

She teaches us that true fire doesn’t need to roar.

It only needs to be.

Not chaos, not rage—just power held steady.

The Ancient Marks 

Look closely at her—beneath the layers of rust, smoke, and ember red—

and you’ll find a map.

Not one made for the land, but for the soul.

Each line on her face is a mark handed down from those who walked before.

Warrior women.

Nomadic priestesses.

Mothers of mothers who whispered prayers into open wind.

There’s a curved crescent near her right eye—

it echoes the waxing moon,

symbol of power rising again after darkness.

There’s a slash across her collarbone—

meant to signify the moment she said no

to the life that wanted to tame her.

A grouping of tiny dots spiral out from her throat—

each one a voice she reclaimed,

every story she no longer keeps buried.

There are even burnished fingerprints woven into the paint—

not mine, but hers.

As if she touched the canvas herself.

As if she guided my hand.

Every mark is a memory.

Every stroke a spell.

Every color a code.

A Poem for Her: 

They thought she was a myth,

a ghost on horseback riding dusk into town.

But she was flesh and flame—

and she had a message.

Not one of vengeance, but of power owned in quiet.

She didn’t holler or spit or shoot the sky.

She just stood. And the world moved for her.

Her coat held stories. Her eyes held storms.

And when she finally spoke,

it wasn’t thunder—it was truth.

"I’ve burned before," she said,

"But this time, I am the match."

Final Sparks

Yes—she is sold. But her energy will never be contained by canvas.Her story lives on.

And another guide is stepping forward soon…emerging from the ashes, ready to rise.

✨ She is sold… but the other Spirit Guides are still available.

Each one holds her own sacred message, waiting for the right soul to find her.

—

With flame, truth, and steady presence,

Missy

The Spirit Guide Collection: Volume One is now available exclusively through New Elements Gallery in Wilmington, NC.

Each guide is a portal — a meeting place between spirit and self, between ancient wisdom and present moment knowing. I’m deeply honored to have this first collection find its home in such a soulful space.

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✨ Follow the link below to view the full collection: [View the Spirit Guide Collection HERE!]

Thank you for walking this path with me.

View my Artwork at New Elements Gallery

P.S. A new batch of Spirit Guide-inspired t-shirts + spring apparel just launched at Pescado Y Amor. They carry the same creative pulse — wearable reminders of who you really are.

Click To Shop T-shirt