



A solitary, mask-like visage rises from a field of turmeric yellow, its single eye held in a taut geometry as if vision itself has been framed and constrained. Above, a pared-down fish hovers in a band of acid light, forming a quiet axis between instinct and consciousness, water and air, hunger and prayer. The turquoise ground cools the scene into contemplative distance, while the red panel—scarred with a faint house and sprigs of growth—suggests memory as a sheltered, imperfect interior. In this restrained, totemic construction, the figure becomes both sentinel and vessel: carrying the fragile ecology of seeing, surviving, and belonging.







