She watches it all—silent, unshaken. A reflection of something real, or just a memory staring back?
I found this mural on a quiet evening, the kind of evening where the sky holds onto the last bit of light just long enough to make you stop and take it in. The Mona Lisa stares through those blue-tinted lenses, doubling back at you like she knows something you don’t. Maybe she does.
I shot this with my usual moody tones—cooler shadows, warm highlights, a little bit of pink hanging in the air. The first edit was good, but I knew it needed more. A mask on the mural, a little contrast, a touch of clarity. Just enough to make her stand out without losing the softness of the moment.
As I looked at the shot, I kept thinking how sick it would be to take a portrait of the artist here. Have them standing far away, the mural blurred but still visible, shot at 75mm, maybe f/2.8, maybe f/4 if I had the distance. No lights, just timing. Golden hour would be nice, but what I really want is that small window of blue hour, where the glow fades and the city starts to breathe.
I don’t know who put this mural up, but I’d love to find out. There’s a story here—one I’d love to capture, if only for a moment. Maybe I’ll go back when the light shifts, when the scene changes just enough to make it new again. If I do, you’ll see it here.
JC the Kid
Stay creative and push the culture
uncommonsight 