




A quartet of galloping horses surges across a fractured field of triangles and torn color, their bodies rendered in sharp, graphic planes that turn muscle and motion into a kind of visual percussion. The palette—white, ochre, and bruised violet against emphatic blacks and a blazing orange disc—pivots between heat and shadow, as if dawn and danger occupy the same instant. By repeating the form like successive frames, the work turns speed into memory, suggesting not only physical momentum but the relentless push of time and collective will. The geometric ground reads as both arena and abstraction, a constructed world where instinct is forced to negotiate with design.







