A woman stands draped in flowing fabric, her gaze distant yet magnetic. The soft glow around her suggests something otherworldly, as if she’s stepped from myth into reality. Every fold of cloth, every strand of hair feels alive—not just a figure, but a presence.
A Bedouin girl stands poised, her gaze steady and enigmatic. The folds of her garment catch the light, hinting at movement in the desert wind. There’s a quiet strength in her stance, an unspoken story lingering just beneath the surface.