



A blue, fetal figure becomes a silent terrain for a hound’s poised weight, turning tenderness into a study of domination and dependence—care as burden, protection as pressure. The clinical grid and tiled band flatten the space into something institutional, while the floating emblems (brain, teeth, toy-like creature, house) read as fractured memories or bureaucratic icons of identity, health, appetite, play, and belonging. Muted washes and the bell’s metallic accent heighten the sense of surveillance, as if the body is being catalogued while it tries to disappear. In this uneasy stillness, the work proposes a modern parable: the self curled inward, and the world—obedient, uniformed, and animal—standing firmly on top of it.







