

A vast, tessellated field of mark-making becomes a metaphor for collective memory, where the land reads like an archive—dense, repetitive, and insistently alive. Suspended across this textured expanse, crescent-shaped balconies cradle small groups of figures in saturated robes, their quiet togetherness transforming the scene into a procession of witnesses rather than a mere gathering. The restrained, ember-toned sky and the punctuating, orb-like trees create a measured rhythm of breath and pause, suggesting that community survives by clustering—by holding space—amid the overwhelming continuity of time and labor. In its flattened perspective and patterned insistence, the work frames belonging as both shelter and horizon, a fragile geometry stitched into the immensity around it.







