Untitled 4 (Celestial Metropolis)

Suspended in a nocturnal field, the city appears less as architecture than as memory—fractured planes of ochre, cobalt, and ember-red rising from a charcoal hush like half-recalled streets after rain. Light blooms in the center with a bruised, celestial intensity, as if the urban core were an inner flare pushing through layers of soot, time, and erasure. The sharp diagonals and scraped textures set the composition in restless motion, turning roads into vectors of longing and buildings into fragile silhouettes that hover between construction and collapse. What emerges is a meditation on modern habitation: a place simultaneously lived-in and dissolving, where permanence is only a brief agreement between darkness and light.