



A dense drift of leaf-like silhouettes accumulates across a warm, ochre ground, turning the surface into a slow, pulsing canopy where repetition becomes meditation. The translucent overlaps—rust, violet, and near-black—create a quiet depth, as if seasons are being stacked rather than passing, and time is measured in stains and shadows. Subtle drips and softened edges interrupt the pattern’s order, suggesting nature’s refusal to be perfectly archived and hinting at memory as something both layered and porous. In this suspended field, the viewer is invited to read the work as an intimate record of growth, loss, and renewal held in delicate balance.







