The Extraction Rite: Moksha Garbha (Womb of Liberation)

This piece is not simply a drawing; it is a memory retrieval encoded in form. A ritual. A soul’s cry and its answer. What you see is the moment of liberation, not only from ancestral grip, but from the distortions embedded deep in the womb-space is trauma, obedience, identity, and karmic fragmentation.

On the left, a skull-like being gazes outward: not dead, but watching. A guardian of thresholds. Its eye socket is not hollow but alive, patterned like a sacred drum, a shamanic eye that holds both memory and intention. The serpent coils from its spine, the ancient Kundalini force rising. It carries the pulse of awakening, the hiss of untangling bindings passed down through blood and silence.

In the center, a figure is gripped in giant hands; held in an impossible squeeze. This is the soul suspended between dimensions, still aware, still breathing, but caught in the ache of generational captivity. To the right of this soul, another being leans in partially formed, dissolving at the edges. This is the Messenger, the Psychopomp, the soul-bridge. It whispers to the gripped one not with language, but with vibration. Perhaps this is the future self, the healed self, come back through the veils to retrieve what was left behind.

Further right, an Indigenous elder emerges. His presence is grounding, melodic. His features echo Lemurian or ancient Earth ancestry. He sings not with words, but in frequency, as if unraveling the tangle of pain with sound alone. His song helps lift the rite. His memory helps steady it.

Every line and shadow here moves like breath through the veil. This is not horror. This is not death. This is Moksha Garbha—the womb of release, the place where a soul midwifes itself free from the entanglement of distortion, and finds the voice again that was once silenced.

This piece is not meant to be understood. It is meant to be felt. To be sat with. To be remembered by the parts of you that still seek extraction from something long passed… but not yet released.

If you feel strange when you look at this—warm, cold, seen, unsettled—it’s because a rite is taking place, and your soul may recognize it too.