



A muted field of slate and ash is punctuated by three pale, leaf-like forms that hover like quiet thoughts, their powdery luminosity gently resisting the surrounding gloom. Sparse, graphite-like marks and faint architectural traces suggest a half-erased memory of place, turning the surface into a palimpsest where presence is felt more than declared. The composition’s vertical tensions—dark, wavering lines rising and breaking—set the leaves adrift in a suspended silence, as if nature and recollection are negotiating what remains. In this restrained dialogue of light and abrasion, the work becomes an elegy for fragility: a soft persistence against time’s smudging hand.







