Thassa 8

A brooding, earthen field holds an arching, cave-like form whose dense, rhythmic hatch marks read like both fur and grain, turning the surface into a tactile record of time and pressure. Pale, scraped passages glow from within the darkness, as if memory has been burnished through layers of soot and sediment, while the vertical ochre slab at right stands like a monolith—an interruption that steadies the composition and suggests threshold or witness. The work hovers between landscape and anatomy, inviting the viewer to feel the slow pulse of something sheltering, eroding, and enduring all at once.