Anitta Painting

🔥 Sigrid Wharton – Art & Poetry in Velvet Dust Sigrid Wharton doesn’t just paint or write—she conjures. Her world is carved from velvet dust and stormlight, where wild women rise from deserts, clutch guitars like spells, and bloom even as they burn. Each work is a living myth—part prayer, part rebellion. Her oil paintings and mixed media pieces are saturated with colour and power: bold, cinematic, unapologetic. Neon skies blaze behind sirens with blood-red lips and eyes like cracked opals. Sensuality isn’t decoration—it’s declaration. These figures don’t ask to be seen. They demand it. In contrast, her watercolours and poetry whisper from the other side of the veil. Soft, aching, sacred—these pieces are quiet hauntings, symbols stitched in smoke. Butterflies, nests, and keyholes emerge through ethereal washes and textured paper, holding grief, transformation, and feminine mystery like a ritual. And the poetry? It moves like blood and prayer beneath the surface of it all. It tells of fireflies that light the path through trauma, of roots threading through the body, of hearts that bury themselves to be revived by crickets. Her language is lush, visceral, and brave. Together, the art and the writing don’t just complement each other—they complete the spell. One is the vision. One is the voice. Each work becomes a portal: a collision of fire and hush, glamour and ghost, rebellion and return. Sigrid paints like a priestess. She writes like a storm. And every piece she creates carries the pulse of something ancient, feminine, and unafraid.