Dreams [2021]: Oceane

The Diver didn't move. He was a fixture of the dream, an echo of someone who had drowned long ago, or perhaps a manifestation of the ocean's grief.

When Océane woke, her grandmother was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding a mason jar of seawater. “I kept this from Lilou’s last swim,” she said. “Thought maybe you’d need it.” oceane dreams

Océane touched her own throat. Beneath her fingers, something fluttered—not a pulse, but a tide. The Diver didn't move

She kicked her legs, propelling herself deeper, past the kelp forests that swayed to a rhythmless wind. In this dream, her thoughts were sonar. She didn't speak; she projected intent. something fluttered—not a pulse

The colors and patterns are directly inspired by marine life and landscapes.