This figure evokes the Nagakanya not as a creature of temptation, but as a presence rooted in guardianship and sacred balance. Seated and frontal, the body is composed, contained, and inwardly powerful. The emphasis is not on movement or allure, but on watchfulness. She appears settled into her role, as if keeping vigil rather than performing for the gaze.
The choice of wood is central to the meaning of the sculpture. Unlike stone or metal, wood carries memory of growth, rings of time, and organic vulnerability. In this medium, the Nagakanya feels inseparable from the forest itself. She is not placed within nature but formed from it. The grain flows across her body like a quiet current, echoing the serpent’s association with earth energies, roots, and hidden waters.
Details are deliberate yet restrained. The torso is full and fertile, but never eroticised. The stillness of the pose, combined with the tactile warmth of the material, shifts the narrative from the sensual to the sacred. Here, the Nagakanya stands as a protector of thresholds, of soil and timber, of the unseen life beneath the forest floor.
This sculpture becomes an ode to a forgotten understanding of the serpent feminine as custodian rather than spectacle, a reminder carved in living material.
Send as free online greeting card
Email a Friend
Manage Wishlist