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Artistsome old part of yourself wakes up in you, terrified, useless in the life you have, its skills and habits destructive but intact, and what is left of the present you, the person you have become, wilts and shrivels in sadness or despair: the person you have become is only a thin shell over this other, more electric and endangered self.
An elderly man with white hair, wearing a torn light-colored shirt and trousers that resemble tree bark, sits on a worn chair in a dimly lit room. His skin is cracked and segmented, resembling dry, peeling bark, with glowing amber light emanating from within the cracks. He holds a brightly glowing, magical light source in his hands, which casts an intense blue-white light on his face, highlighting his deep-set eyes, wrinkled forehead, and white beard. His expression is one of intense focus and perhaps wonder or pain. White, glowing lines or threads of light emanate from his hands and wrap around his upper body, tracing intricate patterns.
Around his head and shoulders, several old, black and white photographs and dried autumn leaves appear to be floating or falling, caught in the magical aura. Small sparks and particulate matter also float in the air. The man's hands are veined and aged, gripping the light source. His lower arms and legs are visibly cracked and segmented, with more amber light seeping through the cracks. The chair he sits on is a simple, dark metal-framed chair with some leaves resting on its seat and back.
The background is a dark, moody room with subtle details. To the left
