Sorry, didn't mean to bump this to the top, just wanted to complete it. I kept thinking about that poem "Ozymandius" while I was playing with the watercolour brush...trying to make it look like her body was made of sand, blowing away in the wind.

I met a traveler from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal these words appear:
“My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look upon my works, ye Mighty, and despair!”
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
by Percy Bysshe Shelley

I'm pissing about for another hour then then thats it.