

Suspended in a wide field of white, the form reads like a botanical relic caught mid-metamorphosis—part blossom, part husk—its bruised pinks and ashen greys rendered with a tender, almost anatomical attention to contour. The composition’s generous negative space turns the subject into an intimate specimen, inviting the eye to trace each wavering line as if listening for a pulse beneath the paper. Soft washes of color and fine, nervous mark-making suggest a narrative of impermanence: beauty folding into decay, yet refusing disappearance. What emerges is a quiet meditation on fragility, where the act of drawing becomes an elegy and a preservation at once.







