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原创艺术品 (One Of A Kind)
绘画,
油
在亚麻帆布上
- 外形尺寸 高度 40in, 宽度 50in
- 艺术品状况 艺术品完好无损
- 是否含画框 此作品未装裱
- 分类 古典主义 静物
“Sentinel” – a tale within the tale…. Once upon a canvas, nestled betwixt dream and memory, lies a realm where time doth hush its step, and silence doth sing. This realm, dear reader, is named “Sentinel.” And verily, it is no mere painting—it is a spell, woven in pigment and light, a tale told not in words, but in whispers and sighs of long-ago days. [...]
“Sentinel” – a tale within the tale…
Once upon a canvas, nestled betwixt dream and memory, lies a realm where time doth hush its step, and silence doth sing. This realm, dear reader, is named “Sentinel.” And verily, it is no mere painting—it is a spell, woven in pigment and light, a tale told not in words, but in whispers and sighs of long-ago days.
At the heart of this enchanted hush sits a porcelain ballerina, dainty as dew and fair as frost, with her slippered foot just poised above the lace of eternity. But mark this well, for she is no common trinket. Nay—she is a daughter of old Europe, born in the workshops of Germany in the eighteenth century, when candlelight was king and minuets were danced by powdered dreams.
She was crafted with grace and gilded with care, a figure so fine that even the moon might pause to admire her. And when Tatiana, the girl with stars in her hair and questions in her eyes, turned seventeen, her mother placed this ballerina in her hands.
“This,” said the mother, her voice woven with years and softness, “was made in another time, but it carries love that does not age. She shall keep watch over you, even when I cannot.”
And so the ballerina came to sit where we now find her—in quiet repose, cradled in lace and memory. Though decades have passed and Tatiana’s world has changed, the ballerina remains, her posture proud, her purpose clear: to remember.
Behind her, a legion of blossoms springs forth—orchids and wild blooms that seem to breathe, to bloom and shimmer beneath unseen stars. Each petal is a note in a silent lullaby, a gentle song of summer nights and secret wishes.
But lo! Who stands guard in this twilight realm? A nutcracker sentinel, fierce in garb of crimson and jade, eyes wide with duty and wonder. He is not only wood and paint—he is the echo of childhood loyalties, the keeper of Tatiana’s dreams. A soldier of dreams, he watches over the beautiful lady, the glassy goblet, and the books stacked like spells. He is the keeper of balance, a warrior against the shadows creeping from yonder wall.
And aye—what shadows they are! Upon the velvet-black backdrop unfurls a battle, a tapestry of knights and steel, drawn forth like smoke from ancient fires. Ghostly warriors clash in a whispering war, their story unknown, yet heavy with forgotten glory. They are the memories of kingdoms past, etched into the walls of imagination. They do not threaten; they remind: that all beauty lives beneath the watchful eye of struggle and time.
Thus is the world of “Sentinel”—a place between breath and memory. A place where a ballerina holds a mother’s love, where a toy soldier guards a kingdom of porcelain and ink, and where even shadows bend gently around the past.
So go gently, dear traveler. The sentinel is watching. And the ballerina remembers.
Once upon a canvas, nestled betwixt dream and memory, lies a realm where time doth hush its step, and silence doth sing. This realm, dear reader, is named “Sentinel.” And verily, it is no mere painting—it is a spell, woven in pigment and light, a tale told not in words, but in whispers and sighs of long-ago days.
At the heart of this enchanted hush sits a porcelain ballerina, dainty as dew and fair as frost, with her slippered foot just poised above the lace of eternity. But mark this well, for she is no common trinket. Nay—she is a daughter of old Europe, born in the workshops of Germany in the eighteenth century, when candlelight was king and minuets were danced by powdered dreams.
She was crafted with grace and gilded with care, a figure so fine that even the moon might pause to admire her. And when Tatiana, the girl with stars in her hair and questions in her eyes, turned seventeen, her mother placed this ballerina in her hands.
“This,” said the mother, her voice woven with years and softness, “was made in another time, but it carries love that does not age. She shall keep watch over you, even when I cannot.”
And so the ballerina came to sit where we now find her—in quiet repose, cradled in lace and memory. Though decades have passed and Tatiana’s world has changed, the ballerina remains, her posture proud, her purpose clear: to remember.
Behind her, a legion of blossoms springs forth—orchids and wild blooms that seem to breathe, to bloom and shimmer beneath unseen stars. Each petal is a note in a silent lullaby, a gentle song of summer nights and secret wishes.
But lo! Who stands guard in this twilight realm? A nutcracker sentinel, fierce in garb of crimson and jade, eyes wide with duty and wonder. He is not only wood and paint—he is the echo of childhood loyalties, the keeper of Tatiana’s dreams. A soldier of dreams, he watches over the beautiful lady, the glassy goblet, and the books stacked like spells. He is the keeper of balance, a warrior against the shadows creeping from yonder wall.
And aye—what shadows they are! Upon the velvet-black backdrop unfurls a battle, a tapestry of knights and steel, drawn forth like smoke from ancient fires. Ghostly warriors clash in a whispering war, their story unknown, yet heavy with forgotten glory. They are the memories of kingdoms past, etched into the walls of imagination. They do not threaten; they remind: that all beauty lives beneath the watchful eye of struggle and time.
Thus is the world of “Sentinel”—a place between breath and memory. A place where a ballerina holds a mother’s love, where a toy soldier guards a kingdom of porcelain and ink, and where even shadows bend gently around the past.
So go gently, dear traveler. The sentinel is watching. And the ballerina remembers.
相关主题
Tatiana McWethy was born in the Ukraine in the town of Berditchev. At an early age she won prizes for her art in Hungary, Romania, and Czechoslovakia. After graduating from Zheleznogorsky Art College, she studied [...]
Tatiana McWethy was born in the Ukraine in the town of Berditchev. At an early age she won prizes for her art in Hungary, Romania, and Czechoslovakia. After graduating from Zheleznogorsky Art College, she studied several years at the St. Petersburg Academy of Art. In 2006 Tatiana married and moved California. Since that time she participated in many art exhibitions, won prestigious art awards, painted frescos and iconostasis for churches. Her art works are in numerous art collections in the US and around the world.
