Untitled 202

A restrained architecture of greys and soot-toned whites assembles itself from scraped, layered marks, as if a city were being remembered through sediment rather than seen directly. Vertical thrusts and boxed intervals create a tense scaffolding that both invites entry and withholds it, turning space into a maze of near-doors and interrupted corridors. The light feels industrial and inward—less illumination than abrasion—suggesting a quiet meditation on systems, repetition, and the fragile human presence implied by what has been built but not inhabited. In its measured austerity, the work reads like an urban palimpsest where time erases, rebuilds, and erases again.