From My Personal Journal
I didn’t paint this cobra to frighten. I painted it to remember.
The moment I laid the first brushstroke, it wasn’t about snakes or symbolism. It was about presence. About that electric tension you feel when something enters a space and everything else stops.
The gold came to me first. I wanted it to feel royal—regal, untouchable. Not because this cobra is a ruler of others, but because it rules its own space. With quiet force. With unapologetic power.
Its eyes—green, deliberate, unblinking—became the heart of the piece. I’ve known that look before.
That poised stillness before someone strikes.
That sense that beneath a calm exterior, something sharp is waiting.
That was the real venom I wanted to capture.
Painting this wasn’t just about the snake. It was about what it brought up in me. A memory. A person I once trusted. Someone who, over time, showed their fangs in ways I didn’t expect.
We’ve all known someone like that.
Someone who wears gold on the outside… but hides poison beneath the shine.
As I painted the curves of its body—elegant, almost hypnotic—I felt something shift. Not anger. Not fear. Just clarity. I wasn’t painting pain. I was reclaiming power.
VENOM isn’t about vengeance. It’s about vigilance.
Knowing what lives in the shadows and choosing light anyway.
I gave it the name KING COBRA – VENOM because it holds that balance: beauty and danger, stillness and strength. It reminds me that not all power is gentle—and not all warnings come with noise.
Maybe when you see it, you feel that too.
Not fear.
But recognition.
Of what you’ve survived.
Of what you now see clearly.
And the quiet strength it took to walk away.
A STORY CRAFTED FROM SONIA’S HEART BY SAM®, IMMERSED IN IMAGINATIVE LIFESTYLE SETTINGS BROUGHT TO LIFE WITH—SORA AI™ & OPEN AI™
