Three women gather, their faces lit by unseen light. One holds a violin, another leans in as if catching a whispered melody. The third listens, her hands resting lightly on the keys of a piano. The air hums with unplayed music, a shared moment before the first note breaks the silence.
A woman gazes into the mirror, bathed in soft light. The reflection blurs—not just her face, but the boundary between observer and observed. Brushstrokes dissolve the edges of reality, leaving only the quiet tension of self-awareness. The room hums with unspoken questions. What does she see? What do we?