Gazing Bull 1

This compact sculptural block holds itself like a weathered relic, its pale, chalky skin catching a raking light that turns every scratch and bruise into a small topography of lived time. Incised marks hover between drawing and erosion—half-language, half-scar—so the surface reads as both a private diary and an archaeological fragment. The mass feels simultaneously protective and wounded, suggesting how memory hardens into form while remaining porous to pressure, touch, and forgetting. In its quiet severity, the work invites intimacy: a monument scaled to the hand, yet heavy with the weight of what cannot be fully deciphered.