Bull 9 (The Force)

A horned, reclining beast materializes from velvety charcoal depths, its body both anchored and dissolving into a storm of looping, calligraphic traces. The composition hinges on the tension between the dense black mass—suggesting brute presence and withheld power—and the airy, wandering lines that read like breath, memory, or reverberation of movement. Subtle gradations of grey act as a chiaroscuro haze, turning the surrounding white space into a psychological field where the animal becomes emblematic of instinct held in suspension. In this liminal stillness, the figure feels less like a literal creature than a meditation on containment: force at rest, watched by its own echo.