

In a hushed architecture of planes and measured seams, three veiled figures crystallize into faceted silhouettes, as if grief and devotion have been cut from the same mineral. The restrained earth palette—ochres, umbers, and ash—holds light like memory, while punctuated dotted fields read as constellations or prayer-beads, stitching the terrestrial to the cosmic. Their gestures are tender yet ceremonial, suggesting a rite of passage where intimacy must be negotiated through distance, and where the body becomes an altar of angles. Above, small star-like forms hover with quiet insistence, turning the scene into a mapped interior—part sanctuary, part threshold.







