Mout, 2025

Koa  

Against a pale pink, almost powdery background, the scene softens, as if the light had been dimmed. The small black creature is still there, but it seems less electric, more enveloped, as if soothed in a cottony atmosphere.

Around her, her wavy locks are adorned with pink and white hues, more diffuse, as if they had dissolved into the air. They no longer burst forth, they float. Each stroke appears slightly softened, as if placed with tenderness rather than urgency.

Her eyes, rimmed with a soft pink, retain that touching naiveté, but their intensity is gentler, almost dreamy. The sketched face, with its few delicate features, seems to smile half-heartedly, in a kind of silent calm.

The background is dotted with small specks, like a light rain or hanging petals. A greyish shape glides across the bottom of the composition, like a light shadow or a passing cloud, adding subtle depth to the whole.

Here, everything is restrained, muted. The creature no longer vibrates—it breathes softly. It is a tranquil, almost intimate presence, like a whisper resting on the canvas.