



This work lingers on the quiet drama of a weathered door, where a tarnished latch and hanging padlock become emblems of memory—protection and abandonment held in the same breath. The composition is spare yet intimate: the horizontal bar presses across the grain like a sentence underlined, while the dark keyhole punctures the surface as a small, unresolved question. Bleeds of blue-green and rust seep into the wood as if time itself has stained the fibers, turning ordinary hardware into a meditation on thresholds—what we keep sealed, what we cannot quite let go.







