Untitled (The Awakening)

Suspended against a quiet, earthen field, a constellation of flattened faces and a small equine form interlock like fragments of a single psyche, each profile carrying its own weather of color and memory. The cool blues read as emotional distance and stillness, while sudden seams of red and white behave like exposed nerves—moments where interior life leaks into the public mask. Compositionally, the upward reach of the hand toward the horse sets a tender, precarious axis of desire and control, suggesting how instinct and identity negotiate a truce. What emerges is a narrative of multiplicity: the self as collage—layered, contradictory, and held together by the thinnest lines of connection.