



This densely layered composition stages the human body as a site of metamorphosis, where birds, fish, coral-like limbs, and anatomical fragments interlock into a single hybrid ecology. Crisp contour lines and patterned fields—zebra stripes, cellular reds, and nocturnal blues—create a nervous rhythm, while the flat, sunlit ground intensifies the sense of specimens pinned between dream and taxonomy. The central vertical fish reads like a totem or axis mundi, anchoring the surrounding drift of symbols—skeletal witness, botanical ghost, and geometric shards—into a narrative about identity assembled from memory, instinct, and inherited structures. In its collisions of the organic and the diagrammatic, the work suggests not chaos but a tender, unsettling order: life continually recomposed from what survives, what mutates, and what we choose to name.







