



Suspended in a muted, sea-green field, the spiral shell becomes both sanctuary and burdenβits nacreous curves catching a cool, clinical light while bruised reds and umbers stain the interior like memory pressed into calcium. The prone, pale figure below reads as a quiet offering to vulnerability, a body reduced to contour and breath, while delicate, wandering lines map invisible currents that tether every form to an unseen ecology of time. Small snails drift at the periphery like slow witnesses, and the discarded brush at the bottom edge turns the scene into a meditation on making itself: creation as excavation, tenderness as a kind of exposure.







