Untitled 104 (Tea Side Stories II)

A silhouetted, almost topographic body becomes a vessel for domestic memory: a field of teapots and kettles repeats like inherited ritual, held in stark black that both preserves and entombs. Above, a jewel-toned bird perches on a branching form, its dotted plumage offering a fragile counterpoint to the bleeding red drips—beauty alighting on a landscape marked by urgency and fracture. Threads of line and pooled stains stitch the composition together, suggesting the way tenderness and trauma can coexist, quietly brewing beneath the surface of everyday objects.