Lilith

Lilith was never meant to be polite. She emerged from a sketch made on a rainy evening — crimson velvet, gold thread catching candlelight, a crown that sits just slightly askew because perfection bores her. Every stitch of her dress was embroidered by hand over three slow weeks, each thread chosen to catch the light differently at dawn and at dusk.

She carries the drama of old theatres and the confidence of someone who has never apologised for taking up space. Collectors say she looks as though she is about to make an announcement. They are right. Lilith is drama, held perfectly still.