This is not a portrait of King Manasseh from the Bible, but rather an emotion I derived from his story.
The body in the painting has disappeared, and the thorns have softened. The things once used to protect oneself, threaten others, or bear pain, no longer extend outward.
I am interested in how people quietly change without realizing it.
Not erasing the past, but no longer allowing the past to define who they will become.
