



A monumental armchair silhouette anchors the composition like a quiet witness, its familiar domestic form cracked open into strata of pigment, scrawl, and abrasion that read as accumulated memory. The cool, expansive blues of the ground create a breathable field of distance, against which eruptions of ochre, crimson, and white within the chair pulse like private weatherβrestless, intimate, and unresolved. By overlaying the object with translucent bands and gestural markings, the artist turns comfort into a psychological site: a place where presence and absence overlap, and where the bodyβs imprint is suggested through the very violence and tenderness of the surface. The work holds a compelling tension between sanctuary and exposure, proposing that what supports us is also what records us.







