Chasma

Framed by an oversized pair of spectacles, the work turns vision into a theatre of memory, each lens holding a miniature world of domestic vignettes—figures caught mid-gesture, animals slipping through, and objects suspended like clues in an unfinished story. The cool, tiled ground recedes in a disciplined grid, yet the blue wash breathes a fog of introspection, suggesting that what is “seen” is always filtered through private recollection. By enlarging the frame and shrinking the scenes, the artist proposes perception as both protection and distortion: a device that organizes experience while quietly editing its discomfort. The composition’s quiet humor carries an undertow of unease, as if everyday life, once contained, reveals its latent absurdity and tenderness in equal measure.