Untitled 170 (Shifting Realities)

A solitary, almost totemic figure rises through a field of smoldering ochres and muted slate, as if excavated from memory rather than painted from life. Geometric shards—triangles and thin architectural planes—hover like fragments of a broken compass, organizing the space while also suggesting disorientation and drift. The light blooms from the left in a quiet, furnace-like glow, turning the surrounding haze into a psychological atmosphere where presence and absence negotiate their boundaries. What emerges is a meditation on the human silhouette as structure: part sentinel, part ruin, suspended between construction and collapse.