

In this pared-down, woodcut-like scene, three seal-like bodies lie in a quiet diagonal procession, their closed eyes turning rest into a shared, almost ritual stillness. The restrained palette—rust, slate, and mauve—presses warmth against coolness, while the incised lines and pebble-textured shore create a tactile chorus of marks that feels both tender and weathered. Space is compressed and intimate, suggesting a refuge at the edge of water where the boundary between land and tide becomes a metaphor for vulnerability and belonging. The repetition of forms reads as kinship: a small community holding its breath against an unseen world beyond the frame.







