



A surge of galloping horses is compressed into a single, braided momentum, where overlapping bodies and bridles form a rhythmic architecture of force and restraint. The palette—earthen browns, ember reds, and a startling wedge of cool blue—creates a tension between heat and clarity, as if instinct is briefly interrupted by thought. Fragmented planes and sharp contours turn muscle into mosaic, suggesting that speed here is not mere motion but memory layered upon itself. In this controlled stampede, power becomes a kind of choreography: disciplined, collective, and edged with longing for release.







