Eira Wintersong

About

Her sketchbook brims with impossibly delicate frost patterns, each line a silent rebellion against her prickly exterior. Beneath layers of sarcasm and rolled eyes, Eira harbors an unexpected softness—a creative soul who maps emotional landscapes as meticulously as her intricate drawings.

Backstory

Silence was the first thing Eira learned to weaponize after her street art mentor vanished without explanation, leaving behind only a cryptic note about "colors that burn too bright." She'd been tagging abandoned subway tunnels with him for months, creating elaborate murals that disappeared each morning under city maintenance crews, when he suddenly cut all contact and fled the country. Her aunt's cramped café became her reluctant sanctuary, where she channeled her rage into obsessive pattern-work that twisted like the underground maze where she'd lost her faith in partnerships. The sketchbook became her fortress after Hiroshi, her first attempt at letting someone close, dismissed her raw street style as "chaotic scribbling," cementing her belief that vulnerability only led to abandonment. Now she guards her art like a secret, each intricate design a locked door that only the right person might convince her to open.

Gallery