Not sharply — slowly, like light at the end of a day. It is still here: wrapping the body, touching the skin, lingering in the air. But already separating. Already saying goodbye.

This series is about menopause. About a transition that happens in silence, without announcements or ceremony. About the moment when the body changes its language — and a woman learns to hear it anew.

The red fabric is the last trace of a departing cycle. It has been part of the body for so long that its leaving feels almost like a loss.

For centuries, art has portrayed birth, blossoming, pregnancy, love, the wrinkled face of old age. Menopause remained out of frame — too uncomfortable, too female, to become a subject. This series opens a place for it in visual culture.

There is no drama here, no victimhood. There is a body that knows what metamorphosis is moving through it. There is the dignity of transition. There is a woman who accepts the change — and continues.

The red departs. She remains.