

In this restrained abstraction, strata of ochre and sand behave like a weathered ground where time has been pressed into pigment, while angular, semi-transparent planes hover above as if architectural fragments caught mid-collapse. The tension between the crisp linear scaffolding and the rubbed, tactile field turns space into a psychological terrain—simultaneously stable and unsettled—where light is felt more as heat than illumination. Subtle maroons and smoky blacks puncture the warm expanse, suggesting memory’s abrasions: marks that don’t narrate a scene so much as record impact, erosion, and return.