Untitled 106 (A Moment of Tranquility)

This quiet still life builds a small theatre of absence, where everyday utensils and paper-thin planes hover like memories pinned to a wall of light. Muted ochres and smoke-greens dissolve at their edges, allowing negative space to become the true subject—an illuminated silence that shapes the objects more than their contours do. The scattered marks, drips, and soft stains read as time’s residue, suggesting a domestic narrative already concluded, yet tenderly preserved in its afterglow. In its restrained geometry and fragile transparency, the work turns the mundane into a meditation on impermanence and the intimacy of overlooked rituals.