

A bruised, mineral landscape settles along the lower register like a memory of ground—stratified, seeped, and scarred—while above it a pale field opens into near-silence. The faint white tracery looping across the sky reads as thought made visible: tentative, drifting circuits that refuse to resolve into a single path, as if mapping longing or weather before it becomes storm. A solitary vertical stroke punctures the hush, a hinge between earth’s density and the air’s uncertainty, suggesting a quiet aspiration to connect what is felt with what cannot be held.







