

Suspended on a skeletal armature, the fractured sphere reads like a globe mid-collapse—an object of knowledge rendered brittle, its crust split to expose a dense, earthen interior. The warm, directional light turns the fissure into a void, while the stark shadow on the wall doubles the form into a haunting echo, suggesting that what we build to orient ourselves can also become a monument to rupture. Rusted metal and granular texture conspire to fuse industry with geology, as if history itself has been compressed, cracked, and displayed for inspection. In this tension between containment and spill, the work quietly meditates on the fragility of systems—planetary, political, and personal—held together only by makeshift supports.







