Heart Is Melting

This monochrome drawing stages an uneasy dialogue between engineered order and unruly imagination: a tiered, architectural mass—repeated in crisp triangular modules—presses forward like a civic monument, while the sky fractures into a dense, cellular swarm of marks that feels at once celebratory and claustrophobic. A sweeping arc cleaves the composition as a kind of atmospheric current or psychic trajectory, guiding the eye across abrupt shifts of pattern—checkerboard, stripes, and vertical rains—where space refuses to settle into a single logic. Small figures and birds appear as witnesses at the margins, suggesting how human presence persists as a slender, upright insistence against the overwhelming systems and storms we build and inherit. The work’s insistence on line, repetition, and contrast turns the city into a metaphorical organism—part shelter, part spectacle—where stability is always shadowed by turbulence.