

Rising from a grounded, chalice-like base, this bronze form erupts into a thicket of interlaced gestures that read at once as branching coral, reaching hands, and a restless flock caught mid-turn. The verdigris patina—sea-green with darker bruised recesses—lets light skim the edges and disappear into cavities, turning negative space into an equal partner in the sculpture’s breath and rhythm. Its upward spiral suggests an ecology of desire: growth that is beautiful yet crowded, a collective impulse pressing toward air while remaining bound to a single source. In this tension between proliferation and containment, the work becomes a meditation on communion—how many bodies can belong to one structure before it becomes a storm.