in "shakara," acrylic paint swirls across the canvas like molten lava, imbuing the scene with an unbearable sense of unease. a 42 year old physiotherapist stands amidst the rusting hulks of a once thriving factory, her eyes sunken and her skin pale as the concrete beneath her feet. the air is heavy with the stench of decay and neglect, the atmosphere unthinkable in its desolation. the woman's gaze is fixed on some point beyond the crumbling walls, her expression a mask of quiet desperation. her hands are clenched into fists, as if she's trying to grasp something just out of reach. behind her, the factory's skeletal remains stretch towards the sky like a macabre dance of steel and concrete. the acrylic paint, used in bold brushstrokes, adds a textured, almost three dimensional quality to the piece. the artist has employed a technique called "impasto," building up thick layers of paint to create raised, ridged surfaces that seem to vibrate with tension. in places, the paint appears almost liquid, as if it's about to spill off the canvas and onto the viewer. the colors are muted, yet somehow still manage to evoke a sense of searing intensity: burnt oranges, rust reds, and decaying yellows all blend together in a sickly hue that seems to cling to the skin. in the background, the outlines of buildings and machinery fade into the haze, like ghosts whispering secrets in the darkness. as you gaze upon "shakara," you can't help but feel the weight of the physiotherapist's despair, her hopelessness a palpable force that threatens to consume everything in its path. the scene is a haunting reminder that even in the most desolate of places, there remains a glimmer of humanity, struggling to survive amidst the ruin., <lora:sdxl_lightning_8step_lora.safetensors:0.6>, <lora:add-detail-xl.safetensors:1.5>