My City

This densely tessellated composition reads like an urban psyche rebuilt from memory—rectangles stack and interlock into a precarious skyline where architecture becomes sensation rather than blueprint. A sunlit wash of ochres and molten oranges floods the upper field, while cooler blues and charcoals below introduce a counterweight of restraint, suggesting the daily negotiation between heat, labor, and quiet resilience. Windows and door-like apertures flicker as small vows of interior life, turning the city into a mosaic of private stories held together by the fragile geometry of belonging. The overall rhythm—simultaneously ordered and restless—invites us to feel the metropolis as a living grid: composed, eroded, and continually reassembled.