As she falls to the forest floor, Red becomes a sacrifice to mortality; scarlet syrup pouring from the lashings on her ivory cheeks which she gained as she stumbled towards the heart of the forest. She grasps forward at the nothingness ahead, her hands dragging over stumps and littered leaves; the remains of the woodland's decay. Her ruined hands caress across an unearthly and missplaced softness and she reaches towards the fallen wolf. His watery eyes search for hers, pleading, and she sighs as she curls up beside him; huntress and hunted fall into peace together - man and nature as one.
This is the self portrait I'm most proud of, I think. :)
I have my art exam on friday, aargh, joy. So many photos to take this weekend, out of sheer fear.
I also had to walk around the woods barefoot for this. My soles will never be the same colour again.
also, this is the cape I made for myself :D