Morning Light (The Window Seat)

This work turns an ordinary façade into a small theatre of memory, where the stained-glass window glows like a guarded heart set into weathered stone. The composition stages a dialogue between cool, nocturnal blues and ember-like reds and greens, so that light feels less like illumination than like emotion pressing outward through panes and pigment. Thick, tactile surfaces and simplified forms suggest time’s accumulation—chips, repairs, and layered histories—while the closed window reads as both invitation and refusal, a quiet threshold between public street and private life.