


Seminario
Acrylic on Canvas (30 cm x 30 cm)
In this hauntingly luminous portrait by Eduardo Ahmin, a figure clad in ecclesiastical garb gazes outward, caught in the soft blaze of some unseen, sacred fire. His expression is open yet unreadable—eyes glimmering with quiet intensity, lips parted in what could be prayer, breath, or revelation. There is a calm here, but not one of comfort; it is the stillness that precedes transformation, a pause suspended on the edge of devotion.
The rounded canvas glows like a relic, its golds and embers radiating outward from the figure’s crown, evoking both halo and heat. His headwear is regal in its simplicity, a symbol of spiritual authority rendered with an almost theatrical elegance. The garment he wears is muted but resplendent, the fabric catching the light in soft washes of green, copper, and ash.
Ahmin's painterly style blurs the line between the divine and the human—this priestly figure feels neither bound to the earth nor fully ascended. Instead, he exists in the threshold, the in-between, where faith wrestles with flesh and fire. This is not merely a portrait of a man of the cloth—it is a portrait of a soul mid-awakening, illuminated from within by the mysteries he’s sworn to serve.
Acrylic on Canvas (30 cm x 30 cm)
In this hauntingly luminous portrait by Eduardo Ahmin, a figure clad in ecclesiastical garb gazes outward, caught in the soft blaze of some unseen, sacred fire. His expression is open yet unreadable—eyes glimmering with quiet intensity, lips parted in what could be prayer, breath, or revelation. There is a calm here, but not one of comfort; it is the stillness that precedes transformation, a pause suspended on the edge of devotion.
The rounded canvas glows like a relic, its golds and embers radiating outward from the figure’s crown, evoking both halo and heat. His headwear is regal in its simplicity, a symbol of spiritual authority rendered with an almost theatrical elegance. The garment he wears is muted but resplendent, the fabric catching the light in soft washes of green, copper, and ash.
Ahmin's painterly style blurs the line between the divine and the human—this priestly figure feels neither bound to the earth nor fully ascended. Instead, he exists in the threshold, the in-between, where faith wrestles with flesh and fire. This is not merely a portrait of a man of the cloth—it is a portrait of a soul mid-awakening, illuminated from within by the mysteries he’s sworn to serve.
Acrylic on Canvas (30 cm x 30 cm)
In this hauntingly luminous portrait by Eduardo Ahmin, a figure clad in ecclesiastical garb gazes outward, caught in the soft blaze of some unseen, sacred fire. His expression is open yet unreadable—eyes glimmering with quiet intensity, lips parted in what could be prayer, breath, or revelation. There is a calm here, but not one of comfort; it is the stillness that precedes transformation, a pause suspended on the edge of devotion.
The rounded canvas glows like a relic, its golds and embers radiating outward from the figure’s crown, evoking both halo and heat. His headwear is regal in its simplicity, a symbol of spiritual authority rendered with an almost theatrical elegance. The garment he wears is muted but resplendent, the fabric catching the light in soft washes of green, copper, and ash.
Ahmin's painterly style blurs the line between the divine and the human—this priestly figure feels neither bound to the earth nor fully ascended. Instead, he exists in the threshold, the in-between, where faith wrestles with flesh and fire. This is not merely a portrait of a man of the cloth—it is a portrait of a soul mid-awakening, illuminated from within by the mysteries he’s sworn to serve.