Unfinished

The city is not a backdrop. It is the body continuing beyond its limits. Towers rise where the portrait should end. Rain and blood obey the same gravity. She has become monumental and imprisoned, an image too large for the world that constructed it.

Scale becomes its own form of captivity. The larger she appears, the less room remains for her to exist. Architecture turns into a frame, a cage, and finally a witness. The city can contain the image, but it cannot contain what the image has become.