Flower Of Heaven

This work reads like a weathered field seen through memory: a dense, marbled thicket of leaf-like arabesques rising from a warm band of ochres, yellows, and ember-reds into a bleached, misted sky. The composition hinges on that luminous middle register, where color gathers into a living chorus before dissolving upward into silvery greys, suggesting growth at the edge of erasure—presence insisting against quiet forgetting. Repetition becomes pulse rather than pattern, and the shallow, all-over space turns the surface into a tactile ecology, where each small flourish is both individual and absorbed into a larger, breathing continuum.