



A hybrid figure—human torso crowned with a goat’s head—sits in a compact, guarded crouch, suspended over a torn sheet of ruled paper as if identity itself were a draft perpetually revised. The saturated green field flattens space into a stage, while the two goats below lock into a tense, intimate confrontation, their mirrored diagonals turning the scene into a quiet tribunal of instinct and reason. Scattered chalk-like numbers and scraps suggest the futility of measuring what is feral, felt, and inherited, turning the classroom of logic into a pasture of psyche where desire, rivalry, and self-recognition graze in the same frame.







