Rock (Untitled)

A muted spectrum of glacier blues and bruised violets cradles a spiral of pale, bone-like forms, as if the body of a landscape were turning inward to listen to itself. The composition pivots around a dark, cavernous oval—an eye or void—while a web of incisive linear marks scores the surface like memory traces, lending the softness of the washes a tense, architectural restraint. Light seems to seep rather than shine, transforming solid curves into passing apparitions and suggesting a meditation on shelter, fracture, and the uneasy intimacy between protection and confinement. In its layered transparencies, the work reads as a map of interior weather—calm on the surface, restless in its underlying currents.