Untitled 4 (Golden Tapestry)

This work reads like a weathered palimpsest of the city’s inner life—charcoal strata scored by vertical drips and crosshatched seams that suggest scaffolding, rain, and time compressing into surface. Flecks and seams of ochre-gold puncture the ashen field like trapped illumination, turning abrasion into a quiet kind of hope. The composition holds in tense equilibrium between control and rupture: gridlines imply order, while the running black veils erode it, as though memory itself is slipping downward. What emerges is a meditation on endurance—beauty not as polish, but as light that persists through sediment and scar.