Raven
Raven
- In the House of Shadows
Prompt:
‚Raven‘ continues the ideas introduced in ‚Marisol‘. The images depict a half-lit, seemingly abandoned house where a single figure sits with a raven, echoing the cryptic whisper “Nevermore.” This setting invites a closer look at how memory and uncertainty intertwine, suggesting a quiet shift from the warmth of the past to the unsettled shadows of the present.
“Nevermore.”
– Magical Realism – Inspired by „Cien Años de Solidad“ by Gabriel Garcia Márquez and „The Raven“ by Edgar Allen Poe
Raven #01 – „Nevermore“
I invented this character, Raven, as an expression of mystery without explanation. What you see in the images isn’t a story to be told, but a quiet exploration of loss, memory, and the spaces in between. Her presence invites you to experience the unspoken and to find your own meaning in the unexplained.
For me, this image is a personal exploration of the space between memory and absence. It’s not about promoting a motif but sharing why I create: to awaken to the subtle, unseen forces that both haunt and inspire us. Every day, I find myself drawn to the tension between what is lost and what remains—a quiet invitation to reimagine our inner narratives.
These texts are not mere descriptions of images. They are reflections on what they carry—a mood, a space between reality and vision. Marisol explores the liminal state between wakefulness and dream, memory and presence. She embodies this threshold, where time dissolves and meaning lingers in uncertainty.
My aim is not to tell a fixed story, but to make a moment tangible. I want to translate images into language—not to explain them, but to open them, to create a space where one can step in without knowing whether they are remembering something or just beginning to dream.
Light, animals, the movement between closeness and distance—these are not symbols with fixed meanings but fragments of a moment unfolding. This is not about answers, but about everything that remains suspended.
Visually, this draws from the atmosphere of *One Hundred Years of Solitude* by Gabriel García Márquez—where reality blends with the surreal, and the mundane becomes a stage for the echoes of history. This work explores how the voices from outside carve themselves into our inner silence, leaving traces that are impossible to ignore.
Through AI, I explore these fragile spaces where reality bends, where what is seen is infused with what is felt. The tension between what is real and what is constructed becomes fluid, allowing magical realism to unfold seamlessly. This image is not just a representation but an invocation of what lingers beyond perception—a vision shaped by the subconscious, by the echoes of stories yet untold.
Raven
In the House of Shadows
She couldn’t say how she had come to stand at the door of this house. When she awoke, she felt only that pull—an echo of the world she once knew with Marisol. The streets lay still, as if in a deep sleep, and she followed her steps without a second thought.
At the entrance, she paused. A gentle push was enough for the old door to give way. Inside, a warm twilight reigned, as though the house itself had chosen to admit shadows rather than light. A long hallway led her to a kitchen where a single large table stood beneath cracked, brightly colored tiles. Somewhere, water dripped into a metal bowl—a quiet, persistent echo in the silence.
She sank onto the edge of the table, feeling the cool air drifting through a gap in the window. On the wall hung a frayed piece of cloth, its muted gold tones reminding her of the once-radiant curtain in Marisol’s room.
All at once, a fluttering rush filled the room. A raven landed a short distance away, its head tilted as if listening to her breathe. While she gazed into the bird’s dark eyes, she suddenly thought she heard a faint whisper: “Nevermore.”
In that single word lay a hidden resonance, and for one fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still. Then the word rose again, echoing through the silence: “Nevermore.” She and the raven remained there, both strangers and yet bound by something reverberating within the empty rooms.
A third time, almost like an echo from another world: “Nevermore.” The bird twitched its wings, as though it meant to repeat itself. In its gaze lay a quiet promise—a whisper she could not shake: “Nevermore.”
