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WINTRESS ARMOR - CINDY X MCCARTHY VISUALS

​​The Wintress Armor was inspired by a prose written by a talented friend and writer.

“Ashes, ashes, they all fall down.” Only hours earlier the garden had rustled in the wind, a broad rattling like gasping, as stems and stalks strained. Now, the vast proportion of this space was coated by a scant façade of snowfall. It reminded her of soot, bone-like in its intensity. This irregular canvas, impetuous in its asymmetry, brought her to the very precipice of contrast: she, with her minute exhalations of fog and faintly luminescent cheeks, and this, the totality of blankness. She is rooted to this place, enchanted or enslaved, bound by ruminations and unnatural empathies.

She daydreams of cherry blossoms and bouquets and wild petals. She conjures in her memory the silage of one meadow, its sensation an infusion between the olfactory and prismatic rapture, obliterative and pervasive—those impressions, in myriad fashions, impelling the color of the soul. A beacon of warmth, she, petrified against the freakish backdrop. Pure snow will amplify nearly anything visual, be it the whole or dismembered, ventilating or muted.

She toys with an idea from Eastern composition—this digression, though involving painting—is loosely topical, specifically in Chinese “shan shui,” literally mountain water. A practicing artist had once explained to her with very little pretense that color served to awaken a landscape in black and white; further considering this, she entertains the notion that this frigid courtyard is not annihilated, but patience itself.