To stand inside the moment captured in this painting is to experience the metaphysical from within the angel's own essence. You are part of the painting and the painter, the sea and the salt, the question and the revelation. You are not visiting a dream. You are the dream, wearing the body of divinity like a second skin. It feels euphoric. There is no gravity here, only grace.The dress you wear is made of silk: green like forest shadows. It catches starlight and flickers opa

It begins not with nightfall, but with the awareness of night. The slow surrender of day does not soothe—it accuses. The ceiling wears the color of ash-glazed pearl and the walls sigh in gentle empathy. You lie still, not dreaming, observing your own failure to fall asleep. Sleep does not evade you—it forgets you. As if your name were lost from some divine roll call of the drowsy. Thirty hours have passed since you last surrendered to slumber. Yet no yawn, no drift, no mercy.