Untitled 10 (Primal Hunt)

Set beneath a bruised, ember-red sky, the scene stages a ritualized procession of figures whose animal masks and exposed bodies blur the boundary between human vulnerability and mythic authority. The composition reads like a frieze—flat yet insistent—where spears, rifles, and rigid stances create a tense geometry of vigilance, as if the landscape itself is being patrolled by archetypes rather than people. Flecks of white drift across the space like ash or snow, softening the violence of the armaments and suggesting a cyclical, indifferent time that outlasts any single conflict. In this uneasy theater, identity becomes both shield and confession: the masks protect, but they also reveal the primal instincts—fear, dominion, survival—that quietly govern the horizon.