Stillness with Teeth | Digital Collage of Power and Grace

This one started with calm. Or at least, that’s what I thought I was making — a quiet portrait, soft light, a woman at rest with her teacup. But the stillness kept shifting. Every time I adjusted the tones or layered the texture, something alive crept in. Before long, there it was — the animal in the corner, half-seen but undeniable.

That’s how Stillness with Teeth came to be. It’s about that moment when peace and danger sit in the same room and pretend they don’t notice each other.

The Tension Under Grace

I’ve always been drawn to that kind of duality — the elegant woman who knows she’s not fragile, the calm that’s earned by surviving the storm. In this piece, her stillness isn’t submission; it’s control. The wildness is still there — it’s just tamed, for now.

The big cat resting beside her is part of her. It’s the part that watches quietly while the world underestimates her. The part that won’t flinch when it’s time to bare its teeth.

How It Came Together

I started with a vintage portrait and layered it with forest textures and animal imagery until everything felt both regal and feral. The foliage spills over her like a second skin — she’s rooted and dangerous at the same time.

That’s what I love about digital collage: it lets contradictions coexist. You can hold beauty and menace, peace and instinct, all in the same frame.

What It Means (At Least to Me)

Stillness with Teeth is about self-control that isn’t meek. It’s about sitting in your power without performing it. There’s something quietly defiant about that.

We live in a world that keeps telling us to smile, to soften, to sip our tea nicely. This piece says: Fine. I’ll smile. But don’t mistake my calm for weakness.