Untitled 21 (Avian Harmony)

Within three hexagonal vignettes, the birds appear as prismatic constructions—wings fractured into facets—so that flight becomes not a blur of nature but an act of assembly, as if each motion were being rebuilt from light. The shifting grounds of green, ochre, and deep blue read like changing climates or hours of day, turning the triptych into a quiet chronicle of migration and adaptation, where habitat is felt as atmosphere rather than described as place. Angular foliage and blossoms punctuate the space like sharp memories, while the disciplined geometry holds the scene in a poised tension between freedom and design, suggesting that even the most instinctive life is shaped by an unseen structure.