The Eve # 9

Unlike her sisters, who occupy space with confidence, "The Eve # 9" is ephemeral, almost devoid of matter. She is a whisper in wood, a form so slender and delicate that she seems to tremble in the air. She does not command; she pleads. Her silhouette evokes an immediate, primal instinct in the observer: the desperate need to shelter her, to cup one's hands around her flame to keep it from being extinguished.

This fragility is a poignant mirror of our current reality. She embodies the defenselessness of women and children caught in the crossfire of history. Specifically, she reflects the sorrow and the peril faced by the innocent during the Russian invasion of Ukraine. She is the mother fleeing under fire; she is the child seeking safety when the walls shake.

The Artist carved away almost everything, leaving only the barest essence of survival. She stands as a reminder that the most precious things in our world—life, peace, and innocence—are also the easiest to break, and require our eternal vigilance and protection.