The Time Yet To Come (Dreamscape Odyssey)

A hybrid creature—part bird, part mammal, part dream—floats through a feverish field of line-drawn bodies, as if the psyche itself has spilled into an overpopulated bestiary. The translucent pinks and acid greens read like internal weather, staining the form from within and turning anatomy into a map of sensation rather than a fixed identity. Around it, the swarming silhouettes become a chorus of half-remembered figures, suggesting how individuality is continually negotiated against collective noise, instinct, and inherited myth. The work holds a delicate tension between tenderness and unease, where metamorphosis feels both liberating and precarious.