



Arranged in a quiet grid like pages from an illuminated bestiary, these pale, fetal figures dissolve into botanical and aquatic metamorphoses—bodies becoming stems, roots, and small creatures that perch where organs might be. The restrained, milky ground amplifies the tenderness of pink flesh-lines and the sudden insistence of saturated yellows and greens, making each vignette feel both clinical and devotional, as if nature is cataloguing human vulnerability with care. Through this choreography of hybrid anatomy, the work suggests identity as an ecosystem—constantly pollinated, inhabited, and reconfigured—where growth is inseparable from fragility. The overall effect is a soft unease: innocence and mutation braided together, inviting contemplation of how life’s earliest forms already carry the memory of transformation.







