"The White Back" Draped in translucent white cloth, she stood in the corner of a room where time had stopped, gazing quietly at the wall. The garden they once walked through together, the breakfast table bathed in morning light — all of it had dissolved into pale particles of memory, drifting through the air. Her husband watched her from behind, and the fingers he reached out to touch her with found only empty space. Was she listening to the echo of "what once was" beyond that wall, or waiting for "what has yet to come"? That faint tremor — a melody too quiet for anyone but him to hear — seeped into every corner of the room. At the far edge of the silence she had reached… I stretch my back upward. Wrapped in a white dress, I dissolve into the black wall. This is what I am. I do not turn around. Not because no one will come, but because I know exactly where he is. I passed away long ago, yet I live on as a part of your memory. This white dress is what you left in this place so you would not forget me. And my shadow, too, remains by your side. ◈ Artist's Note When I began creating this piece, I wanted to express the stillness that settles in after loss. A room after someone beloved has gone does not feel simply empty — it seems to hold the lingering warmth of what used to be there. A woman who has left her husband behind, and the husband who watches over her still. I wanted to honor the sense that the distance between them is no longer physical, but woven through layers of memory. In composing her figure standing at the center of the frame, facing the wall, I made a deliberate choice not to show her face — to make her back the true subject. I wanted to underscore the fact that her awareness is turned entirely toward "the time she once shared with her late husband" and "the unknown world she is moving toward." By not turning around, the deep silence within her feels all the more pronounced. In terms of visual expression, I focused on three key elements in particular. First, I worked the texture of the dress into something white and luminous. Rather than simply white, I gave it a softness that seems to let light pass through — conveying that she is less a person of flesh and blood than something closer to a spirit (a presence that seeps from memory itself). Next, I added a sense of weight and depth to the wall behind her. Its dark, shadow-laden tone creates a sharp contrast with her whiteness, drawing her silhouette into clearer relief. I also introduced fine grain and noise into the wall's surface to evoke the atmosphere of "memory particles" (fragments of the past hovering in suspension) drifting through the frozen room. Finally, I intentionally placed subtle wavering and blur around the lower edges of the dress. By giving her presence a quality that never quite settles — occasionally shifting and dissolving — I wanted to leave open the question of whether she exists here in this moment, or is quietly merging into a distant, half-remembered past. In the poem accompanying the work, I gave words to the fingers that cut through empty air as the husband reached for her, and to the "quiet melody" that only he could hear. For her, the wall is not a flat surface — it is a gathering place for all that once was, and at the same time a threshold into what is yet to come. Through this piece, I wanted to convey the beauty of a presence that, even after all tangible form has gone, continues to live on as part of someone's memory. My hope is that it finds resonance with the quiet moments viewers hold in their own hearts — time spent with someone they cherish. ◈ Edition This work is a limited-edition giclée print from the Mystique In Enigma series. ◈ Keywords Spirit / Memory / White Dress / Silence / Ghost / Loneliness / Reflection / Digital Art / Fine Art / Mystique / Nostalgia / Stillness