



In a narrow corridor of brick and weathered plaster, the composition compresses space until light itself feels rationed, falling in a sharp diagonal that turns the alley into a quiet stage. The abandoned motorbike—half swallowed by shadow—speaks of human presence through its absence, while the rooster and hen in the foreground animate the scene with a modest, stubborn vitality. Muted earth tones and scuffed textures render the ground as a record of use and erosion, suggesting a city where survival is intimate, improvised, and daily. The work holds a tender tension between confinement and continuation, where life persists not heroically, but simply because it must.







