Untitled 24 (Silent Serenity)

A restrained field of slate-grey is cleaved by a luminous, horizontal haze, as if light has been rubbed into the surface rather than painted upon it. The central dark mass anchors the composition like a submerged rock, while the surrounding grain and vertical smears read as weather—mist, rain, or time itself—passing through the scene. This quiet tension between abrasion and radiance suggests a liminal threshold, where clarity is briefly won from obscurity and then begins to dissolve again. The work becomes less a landscape than a meditation on perception: how memory condenses into a single weight, and how atmosphere continuously revises it.