I Have Wings

A serene feminine figure, rendered with mask-like calm and elongated grace, stands as a hinge between the human and the metamorphic—her butterfly wings suggesting not escape but a quiet evolution of self. Against an ochre, time-worn ground that reads like aged plaster or memory, her saffron scarf unfurls into a current of air where small butterflies gather, as if her breath and longing have taken visible form. The composition balances stillness and motion: the poised, inward gesture at the chest anchors the body while the sweeping drape pulls the eye outward, turning private contemplation into a soft, outward radiance. In this gentle theater, transformation is not dramatic; it is devotional, a daily becoming carried on light.