Untitled 75 (Hidden Depths)

A haze of lavender and slate is suspended over an earthen undertone, as if atmosphere and ground are negotiating a fragile truce. The surface resolves into a patient field of dots, where repetition becomes a kind of pulse and the scattered darker clusters read like memories surfacing through fog. Subtle drifts of pigment soften any fixed horizon, allowing space to feel both expansive and intimate—an abstract weather report of inner states. What emerges is a quiet meditation on permeability: how light, time, and touch dissolve boundaries until only rhythm remains.