

A reclining figure drifts through a patterned, almost ceremonial space, her flute held like a slender conduit between breath and dream, while the body’s curve becomes the painting’s quiet horizon. Earthy ochres and mossy greens are punctuated by small, bright birds—fleeting notes that animate the stillness and suggest music made visible, migrating across the surface as memory or desire. The ornamental swirls and clustered, pebble-like forms read as both bedding and landscape, collapsing interior and exterior into a single, intimate cosmos where rest becomes a kind of raga. In this suspended tableau, sound, touch, and mythic symbolism braid together, proposing solitude not as absence but as a richly inhabited world.







