Cobalt that deepens like night over Oaxaca, crimson that pulses through the retablo's veins — nothing diluted, nothing apologized for.
No bezier curves, no symmetry guides — each line wavers with the hand that drew it, and that tremor is the whole point.
Sacred hearts carry devotion, open hands carry offering, watching eyes carry witness — every icon earns its place in the composition.
Gold-leaf borders, tin-panel edges, curled banners — the container shapes the sacred as much as the image it holds.