Agatha
Strength doesn’t always roar—it burns, quietly, beneath the skin. Agatha stands in that in-between place: after the wound, before the full return. Her body is sculpted by survival, her gesture defiant in its grace. Bathed in ember tones and shadow, she reaches skyward—not in triumph, but in truth. This is not a portrait of pain, but of the resilience that follows it. What remains is radiant.
Medium: Acrylic on Canvas
Dimensions: -
Year: 2023
Strength doesn’t always roar—it burns, quietly, beneath the skin. Agatha stands in that in-between place: after the wound, before the full return. Her body is sculpted by survival, her gesture defiant in its grace. Bathed in ember tones and shadow, she reaches skyward—not in triumph, but in truth. This is not a portrait of pain, but of the resilience that follows it. What remains is radiant.
Medium: Acrylic on Canvas
Dimensions: -
Year: 2023
Strength doesn’t always roar—it burns, quietly, beneath the skin. Agatha stands in that in-between place: after the wound, before the full return. Her body is sculpted by survival, her gesture defiant in its grace. Bathed in ember tones and shadow, she reaches skyward—not in triumph, but in truth. This is not a portrait of pain, but of the resilience that follows it. What remains is radiant.
Medium: Acrylic on Canvas
Dimensions: -
Year: 2023