



Suspended in a field of hushed green, a cobalt figure balances atop a fleshy, spiraled form that reads as both organism and altar, collapsing the distance between body and habitat. The spare negative space intensifies the delicacy of the stippled textures and sea-anemone fronds, while the dancer’s lifted leg and outstretched arms conduct a quiet current of motion through an otherwise weightless world. A tiny, glowing blue eye at the tip of a wand becomes the work’s emotional fulcrum—an offering of attention, curiosity, or spell—suggesting that imagination is a kind of navigation across the unknown. The piece feels like a myth seen through a biological lens: tenderness and strangeness entwined, poised on the edge of metamorphosis.







