

This work stages absence as a palpable presence: a solitary chair sits like a witness in a room made of palimpsest—layered ornamental traces, rubbed textures, and ghostly stains that feel more remembered than observed. Along the upper band, four dark, banner-like panels punctuate the field with fragile symbols—crosses, crescents, and botanical marks—suggesting a quiet ledger of beliefs, seasons, or private rituals suspended above the everyday. The restrained, sepia-olive tonality and bruised contrasts compress light into a muffled hush, turning domestic space into an interior psyche where history clings to surfaces. What emerges is a meditation on belonging and erasure: the body is missing, yet the architecture of memory refuses to leave.







