



This suite of small works reads like a crowded pantheon of invented deities—ink-dark bodies contorted into masks, dancers, and beasts—each figure suspended in a white void that turns absence into a stage for ritual. The dominant black forms assert themselves as silhouettes of instinct, while sharp incursions of red, acid yellow, and electric blue behave like psychic heat-maps, locating desire, threat, and laughter within the anatomy. Repeated eyes, horns, halos, and animal companions build a symbolic grammar where the sacred and the profane trade places, suggesting a world in which myth is not inherited but improvised. Seen together, the grid becomes a chorus of archetypes: intimate, mischievous, and slightly menacing—visions that feel like dreams translated into decisive, performative line.







