Akela (Still Life with Bowl and Chairs)

Suspended in a wide, quiet field of paper, the solitary fish rests like a relic on a quilt of patterned cloth, its weight made palpable by the dense, granular blacks that pool beneath it. The composition stages a tender friction between the organic body and the stitched geometry around it, as if domestic care and mortality share the same table. A small chair intrudes at the edge—half invitation, half witness—turning the still life into a hushed narrative about nourishment, memory, and the rituals that hold ordinary life together.