The Orchestrator
In The Orchestrator, two figures are locked in a desperate battle, unaware they are dancing on the edge of a giant’s blade. They bleed not from each other’s strikes, but from the terms of a rigged game where conflict is the only currency. Above them, the Orchestrator watches with detached amusement, owning the very steel that severs their foundations. Rendered in a cold, colorless grisaille, this piece reveals that the only thing real in this theater of self-destruction is the blood.
The celestial harp of Elaira
Adrift between sky and earth, Elaria plays her harp as the sun bleeds into the horizon. She is not fleeing the shore in haste, but leaving it with quiet resolve, carrying both sorrow and release in her wake. The music does not erase what was lost; it dignifies it. Bathed in warm light and fragile calm, this piece captures the moment when grief loosens its grip and becomes something bearable, something almost tender. It is a departure not toward joy, but toward peace.
The Departure
InThe Departure, a lone figure drifts away from the shore as the sun lowers itself into the water. The land behind him still glows with warmth and memory, yet he does not turn back. This is not escape, but release. The quiet decision to carry one’s sorrow forward rather than remain anchored to it. The sea reflects both fire and calm, holding the moment where hope and grief exist at once.
The Storm
InThe Storm, the sea rises into unrest, and the ships move not as conquerors, but as witnesses to forces greater than themselves. The horizon fractures beneath a heavy sky, where light struggles but does not surrender. This work is not about battle, but endurance. The fragile persistence of motion when certainty has already been lost. What survives here is not strength, but resolve.