Untitled 7 (Zebras and Patterns)

Against a field of incandescent red, the zebras emerge like living etchings—each stripe sharpened into a graphic pulse that both defines and dissolves their bodies into the surrounding ornamental current. Sinuous, horn-like conduits curl through the composition, turning anatomy into instrument and breath into pattern, as though sound, instinct, and memory are being siphoned through a single rhythmic line. The scale shifts—from the intimate, cropped muzzle to the smaller, watchful figure above—stage a quiet hierarchy of presence, suggesting lineage and vigilance while the crimson ground holds everything in a state of heightened urgency. What reads at first as decorative complexity gradually becomes a meditation on containment: the wild translated into design, and design made feral again through insistence and repetition.