Siren After Midnight

18.5"x24.5" oil on canvas Every day on my commute, I find myself glancing at the siren mural that adorns the wall of an old building in downtown. Her striking visage captivates me, and as the city falls silent after midnight, a question begins to linger in my mind: what does this siren do once the clock strikes twelve? With no one else around in the ghostly stillness of the night, I can't help but imagine her slipping off her concrete perch, venturing into the sea to indulge in whatever enchantments she weaves. It’s easy to picture her singing her melodious tunes to sailors lost in the darkness, beckoning them closer even as a whisper of danger hangs in the air. After indulging in these wild flights of fantasy, I can’t shake the feeling that she’s watching me every time I pass by. Her haunting gaze seems to pierce through the glass of my car, leaving me with an odd mixture of inspiration and trepidation. I find myself enchanted yet anxious, and I remind myself to focus on the road ahea