Towards The Third World War

A solitary turtle rests on a weathered circular plinth, its moss-green carapace rendered as an architectural lattice that turns protection into a measured, almost constructed idea of endurance. The raking light coaxes tactile truths—pitted shell, blunt limbs, scarred surface—so the piece feels less like a creature in motion than a meditation on time’s slow workmanship. Suspended against a void-like ground, the form becomes a quiet emblem of persistence, carrying its world as both shelter and burden, poised between vulnerability and resolve.