

A fish, rendered in restrained greys and soft airbrushed gradients, drifts through a field of quiet paper—its body both solid and strangely porous, as if memory has begun to erode the familiar form. Over it, looped bands and serrated, rib-like marks cinch and orbit the torso, turning the creature into a diagram of containment: part harness, part halo, part anatomical revelation. The composition balances stillness with tension—clean silhouettes meet patterned interruptions—suggesting the delicate threshold between freedom and capture, nature and system, breath and mechanism.







