Untitled 3

A single claw rises from a dense lattice of twisted bindings, rendered in meticulous graphite tones that make the surface feel both tactile and airless. The composition stages a quiet drama between upward force and imposed containment, where the delicate gradations of shadow turn restraint into something almost ceremonial. Suspended in an expanse of white, the form reads as a monument to survival—an instinct to break through even as the body is caught in an inherited knot of pressure, obligation, and fear.