

Suspended in a field of velvet darkness, a small origami boat becomes a quiet talisman of passage, its cool geometry hovering above a cradle of open hands. The hands—lush with baroque, vine-like ornament—feel less like flesh than landscape, suggesting memory and labor etched into the body as if it were its own terrain. This tension between weightless vessel and grounded, patterned palms turns the scene into a meditation on faith and fragility: an offering held at the edge of release, where hope is both protected and allowed to drift. Light grazes the forms with a muted reverence, making the boat’s pale facets read as a beacon against the inward night.







