Thirsty Birds

Set against an expanse of lucid blue, the work stages a quiet drama of circulation and withholding: pipes, taps, and valves become a choreography of modern dependence, at once utilitarian and strangely mythic. A chain-locked bend in the copper conduit reads like a sealed promise, while the blinding white disc—sun or moon—casts an impersonal clarity over a landscape where liquidity is rationed and redirected. Metallic fragments drift like suspended debris or memories, softening the engineered geometry with a sense of erosion and unease. The solitary gush from the pale spout feels both salvific and accusatory, suggesting that what finally flows is never innocent, but negotiated.