-
-full.webp)
At Breakfast (1898)
A woman sits alone at the table, sunlight pooling around her untouched coffee. The bread lies half-sliced, the knife abandoned mid-task. Something in her stillness suggests this morning is different—not routine, but a pause heavy with unspoken weight. The room holds its breath.
-

Watching the prey
A cat crouches low, eyes locked on unseen prey. Its body tenses, every muscle coiled for the pounce. The quiet before the strike hangs thick in the air. Nearby, another feline watches, indifferent yet alert. The hunt unfolds in silent, deadly focus.
-
-full.webp)
Reverie (1890)
A woman leans against a sunlit window, lost in thought. The soft brushstrokes blur the line between her daydream and the warm interior around her. Light spills across her dress, dissolving into delicate patterns of color. Her absent gaze holds a quiet mystery, suspended between reflection and reverie.
-

Le Repos
A woman pauses mid-task, her body sinking into the chair’s embrace. Sunlight slants across the quiet room, catching the folds of her skirt. The air hums with stillness—a rare break in the rhythm of domestic labor. Her hands rest, but her gaze lingers on unfinished work.
-
-full.webp)
Young Woman with a Pearl Necklace (from 1663 until 1665)
A woman stands by the window, fingers brushing the pearls at her throat. Light spills across her face, catching the soft curve of her lips—not quite a smile, but something quieter, more private. The moment hangs, suspended, as if she’s listening to a voice just beyond the frame.
-
-full.webp)
Fireside Candlelight (1903)
Soft candlelight flickers across the room, casting warm pools on the floor. A fire crackles nearby, its glow mingling with the dancing shadows. The scene feels intimate, like a quiet moment stolen from time—just the hush of flames and the gentle play of light on worn wooden boards.
-
-full.webp)
The Wine Glass (circa 1658-1660)
A single glass of wine sits half-full on a table, catching the light. Shadows pool around its base, deepening the rich red hue. The stillness holds a quiet tension—as if someone just set it down or might reach for it any moment.
-
-full.webp)
The Love Letter (c. 1669 – c. 1670)
A woman pauses, letter in hand, sunlight catching the folds of her dress. The room holds its breath—a quiet tension between anticipation and secrecy. Her gaze lingers just beyond the frame, leaving the message’s contents to imagination. The lute rests untouched; music can wait. This moment belongs to the page.
-
-full.webp)
Mariana (1880)
A woman stands by the window, sunlight pooling at her feet. The room hums with quiet warmth, her dress catching the glow. Outside, the world blurs—just shapes and color. She’s not waiting, not leaving. Simply there, a breath held between moments.