

Three white horses surge across a fractured field of blues and charcoals, their bodies carved into angular planes that make motion feel both urgent and engineered. The cool, weathered ground reads like an urban palimpsest—scraped, layered, and noisy—against which the animals’ luminous silhouettes become a brief, defiant clarity. A blood-warm red disc hangs at the edge like a warning bell or setting sun, shifting the gallop from pure freedom into a charged passage through time, pressure, and constraint. In this tension between instinct and constructed space, the work turns the myth of the wild run into a contemporary meditation on endurance.







