What you see is not just a figure, it is me, laid bare.
Stripped of expectations, seated on the weight of lived experience,
surrounded not by an audience, but by the quiet awareness that watches the world without needing to speak.
Its nakedness is not provocation, but surrender, a kind of peace reached only through honesty.
And the peacock,bright, mythical, silent, sits upon my shoulder like a secret.
It does not cry out, does not dazzle to impress.
Its beauty is protection, its silence a language of its own.
It carries the part of me that I do not share,
the stories I hide beneath feathers too vivid to be ignored, yet too private to be spoken.
The nature that surrounds the figure, the warm green, the golden light filtering through, is not a setting. It is the landscape of my inner world.
Each branch is a thought, each ray a realization,
and the stillness between them is the space where meaning settles when words are no longer enough.
This painting, for me, was a return.
Not to a place
