Transfiguration: The Faces of Becoming

A silent alchemy unfolds—faces rising, dissolving, reforming. A childlike visage, raw and wide-eyed, bears the markings of time itself, etched in the textures of earth and memory. From within, the echoes of past and future selves push through, revealing the ever-shifting nature of being.

Above, a vulture perches, its golden eye watching, neither cruel nor kind, but knowing. It is the keeper of transitions, the silent witness to decay and renewal. Beneath its shadow, nestled within the contours of the larger form, a woman in blue cradles an infant—a hidden mother, a guardian of rebirth, sheltering the fragile cycle of existence.

To the left, a regal androgynous figure emerges, adorned with a dragonfly bowtie, its wings shimmering with the iridescence of unseen realms. The dragonfly—a messenger of change—bridges the elements, slipping effortlessly between water and air, between dimensions, between past and future. It is a whisper of transformation, a tether to the ephemeral.

The background pulses with veiled figures—some barely formed, others dissolving into the ether. They are past lives, forgotten selves, unrealized potentials—all converging in a moment that is neither here nor there, but in the midst of becoming.

This is not a single face. It is many. It is movement. It is transfiguration.A portrait of the self unbound, shifting through lifetimes, revealing, shedding, and emerging—again and again.