A young woman, luminous and proud, stands cloaked in the golden dust of memory. Her eyes—curious, calm, commanding—pierce through time, meeting ours across a veil of ancient wisdom. She is not alone. Beside her, a deity emerges from a mist of ochre and script, perhaps Hathor, or Sekhmet, crowned with the sun, a staff in hand, guardian of strength and renewal.
The wall behind them breathes with hieroglyphs—silent verses written in the stonework of civilization. The brushwork is both soft and assertive, like memory resurfacing through forgotten sandstorms. Past and present blur, as the living and divine mirror each other in form, grace, and purpose.
This is not just a portrait—it is a bridge between myth and modernity, between the divine feminine and the living woman, eternal in her beauty and presence.
oil on canvas stretched on a wooden frame
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£4,262.5 Sold
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A young woman, luminous and proud, stands cloaked in the golden dust of memory. Her eyes—curious, calm, commanding—pierce through time, meeting ours across a veil of ancient wisdom. She is not alone. Beside her, a deity emerges from a mist of ochre and script, perhaps Hathor, or Sekhmet, crowned with the sun, a staff in hand, guardian of strength and renewal.
The wall behind them breathes with hieroglyphs—silent verses written in the stonework of civilization. The brushwork is both soft and assertive, like memory resurfacing through forgotten sandstorms. Past and present blur, as the living and divine mirror each other in form, grace, and purpose.
This is not just a portrait—it is a bridge between myth and modernity, between the divine feminine and the living woman, eternal in her beauty and presence.
oil on canvas stretched on a wooden frame
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