



A pale, atmospheric field holds a vertical drift of broken color—reds, yellows, greens, and deep blues—like a spectrum remembered rather than observed, repeatedly veiled by chalky whites that soften each register into breath. The composition reads as a quiet ascent and descent, where pigment is allowed to fade, reappear, and fracture, turning the center into a meditation on time and erasure rather than pure chromatic display. Its rubbed, granular surface suggests touch and weathering, as if the work records transient states—signals trying to cohere—inviting the viewer to linger in the spaces between clarity and disappearance.







