Product (Three Bottles)

A heavy, tar-like field descends from the top edge, its viscous silhouette swallowing the white ground with an insistence that feels both playful and foreboding. Beneath this dark canopy, three baby bottles stand in quiet alignment—small, domestic reliquaries—each capped with a different band of color, as if individuality is being measured against an encroaching, uniform stain. The scattered blue and pink droplets above read like celebratory confetti turned contamination, suggesting how innocence and nurture can be shadowed by the larger systems that seep into early life. In its stark contrasts and graphic economy, the work turns a familiar symbol of care into a meditation on vulnerability, consumption, and what quietly saturates us before we can name it.