

A headless figure stands in a poised suspension, its torso spiraled in a harlequin black-and-white lattice that reads like an optical pulse—order and instability braided into the body’s very skin. The hyperreal denim legs, saturated in electric blues, anchor the work in everyday consumption, yet their glossy finish and mannequin-still stance turn “casual” into costume, suggesting identity as something worn, traded, and rehearsed. Set against a clinical white void, the sculpture’s contradictions—playful pattern versus mute anonymity—conjure a contemporary allegory of selfhood: the person erased, the surfaces speaking.







