

This stark monochrome drawing stages an improbable botany: a sinewy tree rises from the mouth of a shadowed sphere, as if life has been grafted onto a sealed, gravitational world. The meticulous crosshatching compresses light into a slow, inward spiral, making the orb feel both monumental and claustrophobic—an interior cosmos where time accumulates rather than passes. Branches arc like searching instruments, each tipped with hinge-like forms that read as buds turned mechanical, suggesting growth disciplined by design and a tenderness caught in the logic of manufacture. In the generous negative space, the image becomes a quiet parable of resilience—nature adapting, but also being engineered—hovering between wonder and unease.







