



This work stages a tense still-life where two revolvers, mirrored like ritual implements, flank a humble earthen pot that glows with warm, human presence against a field of cool, washed greys. The dotted veil and smoky ink blooms dissolve the background into a kind of atmospheric static, as if memory, threat, and tenderness are suspended in the same breath of space. By centering the vessel—an emblem of sustenance and continuity—between instruments of rupture, the composition turns symmetry into a moral pressure point, asking whether protection and violence are ever truly separable. The interplay of delicate mark-making and hard metallic form creates a quiet tremor: fragility held at gunpoint, yet stubbornly radiant.







