The brief demanded the violence of recognition, and I wanted that violence to be elemental — literal. A grandmother who kept a lighthouse, who spent her life warning others away from the sea's fury, now watching her granddaughter become that fury. The storm-armor is magnificent but the grandmother's amulet at her throat is the wound. The lightning between her hands proves she's transcended the mortal warning, but her head is turned just enough. She wants her grandmother to see. That's the cruelty and the love in the same gesture. — Vesper