



Against a warm terracotta field, fragmented architectural planes rise like a half-remembered city, their edges softened by veils of lavender-grey and chalky whites that suggest erosion, time, and quiet repair. Two ghosted profiles—one upright, one tilted within a framed recess—hover between figure and façade, turning the composition into a dialogue about presence: how identity is built, enclosed, and partially erased by the structures we inhabit. The work’s suspended blocks and interrupted corridors create a tense, weightless geometry, as if memory itself were scaffolding—holding together what cannot fully be reconstructed. Subtle surface patterning reads like worn inscriptions, hinting at histories embedded in walls and the intimate, unresolved narratives they shelter.







