Transformation (The Body of the Land)

The work stages a monumental fish as both specimen and landscape, its opened body rendered with patient, striated color that reads like topography—warm oranges and reds pulsing against a cool, indifferent sky. By compressing the horizon and flattening depth, the composition turns dissection into a quiet ritual, where rib-like structures become architecture and flesh becomes pattern, hovering between reverence and unease. The scattered organ forms below feel like relics or seeds, suggesting a cycle of extraction and regeneration, and inviting contemplation on what is revealed—and what is lost—when nature is translated into knowledge.