

Carved from warm, timeworn wood, this sculptural assemblage reads like a relic of an imagined archive—part totem, part battered book—its hinged planes and jutting limbs suggesting a body that folds, guards, and reveals. The etched, circuit-like lines march across the surface with the cool insistence of technology, yet their hand-drawn irregularity keeps the work human, as if memory itself were being wired together in real time. The stark typographic block at the base anchors the object in language, while the small, umbrella-bearing figure functions as a fragile witness—poised between shelter and exposure—turning the piece into a meditation on protection, surveillance, and the stories we store inside our constructed skins.