



A pale, gauze-like field is built from crisscrossed white filaments, turning the square into a fragile membrane where light catches on every strand and makes absence feel tactile. Scattered orange nodes and buried fragments of patterned paper flicker like half-remembered signals, while thin red threads wander through the mesh as if tracing routes of emotion rather than geography. The composition holds a quiet tension between containment and driftβan archival impulse to pin down experience, set against the inevitable entanglement of memory as it frays, overlaps, and refuses a single narrative. In its near-monochrome hush, the work reads as a delicate cartography of connection: intimate, provisional, and persistently alive.







