Apparition
A face appears in fragments behind a curtain of straight hair. A red mouth, a glint of skin, a white eye and a piece of jewellery. The rest disappears.
This is not a portrait. It is not a person we recognise. It is a character that appears.
The wig is not there to hide, but to filter and to suggest rather than display. The white eye looks at us from the darkness. We think we are observing, but we are being observed.
It is one facet of the self that shows itself. Not the most familiar one. Not to lie, but to exist differently. We call this a mask. But sometimes the mask does not erase the face. It gives it a form that would otherwise be impossible.
Between what is shown and what remains invisible, a presence emerges. Fragile. Passing. And yet real.

Apparition
You can see that it is a costume. With long hair falling down, very red lipstick and black make-up on the skin. You catch sight of an earring and a very bright eye coming out of the shadow.
It is not someone you recognise straight away. The hair hides part of who she is, but not everything. And between what you see and what you do not see, something appears. For a moment. Then it goes away.
Sometimes, you need to show only part of yourself. Not to lie. But to exist differently.