Comments
Loading Dream Comments...
You must be logged in to write a comment - Log In
What Her Amber Eyes See. An intimate watercolor portrait of Em, a 19-year-old Hmong woman with albinism, during the silent predawn tea ritual inside her mountain home near Sa Pa, Vietnam. Frame her face closely from slightly below eye level, as though the viewer is sitting across the small table from her. Her unusually pale translucent skin is rendered in very thin pearl, blush and cool lavender washes rather than opaque white. Her long perfectly straight white hair falls naturally around her face in soft individual strands, some catching the amber firelight and others disappearing into the silver-grey atmosphere. Both eyes are fully open and clearly visible. They are extraordinary translucent amber, luminous but natural, with delicate darker rings around the irises and tiny wet catchlights. In one iris, almost imperceptibly, is the miniature reflection of the orange hearth flame. On Em's left cheek, clearly but gently visible, is her small natural heart-shaped birthmark, a muted dusty-rose mark rather than a bright symbol. The rim of a simple ceramic tea cup enters the bottom of the composition. Warm white steam rises from it in several transparent ribbons, drifting across part of her face without obscuring her eyes. The steam becomes increasingly abstract as it rises, merging into the cold mountain mist filling the dim room. Her expression is very still. Not sad for the viewer. Not smiling for the viewer. Simply awake too early, carrying responsibility quietly. Her gaze is directed slightly beyond the cup toward something outside the frame, as though she has noticed some tiny presence in the mist that no one else would see. This should be the first subtle hint of the later dream world, not an obvious fantasy effect. Behind her, everything is nearly dissolved: one suggestion of an ember-orange fireplace, weathered dark timber, a fragment of indigo cloth and soft silver predawn fog. Minimal dreamy hazy breezy watercolor, diluted ink, translucent glazing, wet-on-wet diffusion, granulating pigment, softened graphite-like linework, visible paper grain, beautifully imperfect paint blooms and large areas of untouched luminous paper. Palette: Pearl Mist, Frosted Rose, Smoked Indigo, Raincloud Lavender, Mountain Silver, Burnished Amber and one tiny breath of Hearth Orange. Extremely intimate emotional storytelling. Avoid glamour photography, porcelain-doll perfection or supernatural glowing skin. Em should remain recognizably human, tired, young, resilient and quietly beautiful. EmmAI Fragile Vision. No text. Soul Line: The mist hid the mountain from everyone else. In her eyes, something inside it was waking.
Em of the Mountain Mist
Meet Em, our new Muse from the misty mountains of Sa Pa. She is nineteen, lives with her beloved Bà, and rises before dawn each morning to gather vegetables for the market.
Her white hair and amber eyes may make her look as though she belongs to a dream, but her days are made of cold mornings, muddy paths, worn indigo clothes, hard work, and the small comfort of hot tea beside the fire.
This is a quiet visual story about an ordinary young woman with an extraordinary way of seeing the world.
And somewhere in the mountain mist, something may already be waiting for her.
Before Em ever entered a dream, the mountain had already begun dreaming around her.
A Little Note About Their Names
Em is a Vietnamese word for younger sister, younger sibling, or a younger person spoken to with affection. For our heroine, it feels especially tender, almost as if the whole story is calling her gently: Em...
Bà means grandmother in this story. It can also refer respectfully to an older woman, but for Em, Bà is home, warmth, memory, and the person who raised her.
