



A lone, mechanized fish hovers in a quiet grey atmosphere, its lacquered orange body and riveted plates turning a familiar creature into a tender instrument of survival. The stained-glass geometry of its fins—honeycombed and ember-lit—suggests both fragile beauty and engineered design, as if nature has been retrofitted to endure a world drifting toward ash. Below, the scorched, floating landmass reads like a wounded terrain, while the small shoal of fish receding into the distance becomes a muted elegy for what is slipping away. In this suspended space between sea and sky, the work meditates on adaptation as both hope and warning: a future where life continues, but only through fabrication.







