Untitled 3

Set within the concentric memory of a tree’s cross‑section, a lone puller and his cart move across a ground that fractures into bold black-and-white currents, as if the road itself were turning into a tide. The warm amber rings read like time made visible—years, labor, endurance—while the stark graphic shadows press the figure forward, enlarging the burden into something almost mythic. By staging an ordinary act of transport against this surreal, circular stage, the work becomes a meditation on cycles: of work and survival, of history embedded in material, and of motion that never quite escapes its own orbit.