Chaya de silva - Blindfolded, Yet Seeing

She stands in silence, eyes veiled not by cloth, but by the blur of her own thoughts. Her vision isn’t lost—it is inward. What the world sees as chaos is actually the unraveling of her awakening.

The flowers blossoming across her face represent the thoughts she once suppressed—now blooming freely, unapologetically vibrant. Each petal is a memory, a scar, a whisper of who she used to be. She is both becoming and unbecoming.

The butterfly across her chest symbolizes transformation—not a gentle one, but one forged in fire and colours. Her rebirth is not delicate… it’s electric. She breaks through resistance in waves of cobalt, fuchsia, and tangerine, daring the world to feel her.

Her blindfold isn’t a sign of weakness—it’s her choosing to look within before she looks outward. She’s guided by intuition rather than expectation. She trusts the fire in her chest more than the noise outside her mind.

She is not lost.

She is searching.

She is not blind.

She is becoming.