Wired

A suspended terracotta vessel and its delicate foliage emerge and recede through horizontal bands, as if seen through blinds or the shifting shutters of memory. The muted earth greens and siennas are repeatedly interrupted by pale, luminous stripes, turning ordinary domestic life into a meditation on what is withheld and what is allowed to be seen. This rhythmic occlusion fractures space into measured intervals, suggesting time’s passage—growth paused, resumed, and quietly persisted in. The work holds a tender tension between containment and overflow, where nature’s insistence threads downward despite every imposed division.