


A solitary bell hovers in a field of bruised magenta, its muted gold catching a soft, interior light that feels more remembered than observed. The composition is spare yet charged: the taut suspension above and the loose, wavering cord below create a vertical tension between restraint and release, as if sound itself has been paused mid-breath. Encased by the rough, pink-stained frame, the object reads like a relic—half devotional, half domestic—suggesting the fragile threshold where ritual becomes routine and silence becomes its own kind of ringing.







