Confiteor

"No Shadows Left to Hide You"

Katrina is a girl made of daylight—but not the kind that warms you. She’s the afterimage of a sunburn, a golden-hour ghost caught between devotion and decay. Her halo of frayed rays flickers like a dying filament, and her skin glows with the unnatural sheen of a Polaroid left too long in the light. The tragedy isn’t that she faded; it’s that she still burns.

She does not ask for your gaze—she returns it. This Katrina is not merely exposed by the sun; she becomes it, her golden gaze a merciless mirror reflecting back every secret you thought the dark would keep. To look at her is to stand trial.

The light here is recursive. Notice how her hollow eyes hold no pupils, only the afterimage of whatever guilt you bring to her. Her cracked lips pressed in silent accusation, while the wilted marygolds framing her face whisper you did this, you looked too long. The gold leaf isn’t adornment—it’s radiation, searing the viewer’s silhouette onto the canvas long after they turn away.
This is Judgement as feedback loop. Not a card drawn, but a curse enacted.

Acrylics on canvas
11" x 14"