Song Of Water 10 (Shadowplay)

This monochrome abstraction stages a quiet drama of fracture and flow, where layered, blade-like forms seem to shear through a field of smoky gradients. Light behaves like a liquid membrane—pooling, slipping, and catching on edges—so that the composition reads as both a landscape of eroded cliffs and an internal anatomy exposed. The tension between matte darkness and silvery translucence suggests memory in the act of rearranging itself: pieces held together not by certainty, but by the pressure of proximity and the pull of unseen currents.