Red Blooded

This triptych treats the surface as both skin and map: a field of granular green is punctured by apertures that reveal a quieter, hidden architecture beneath. Moving from scattered voids to a disciplined grid of raised, blade-like facets and finally to a fractured floral geometry, the composition stages a gradual negotiation between chance and order, as if pattern is being coaxed out of erosion. Light becomes an active collaborator—catching edges, casting tiny shadows, and turning subtraction into a kind of drawing—so the work reads as an archaeology of perception where absence carries as much weight as form.