



This work stages a tense meeting between landscape and architecture, where slanted, blade-like forms cut across the picture plane as if the scene were being assembled—and dismantled—at once. A restrained palette of sepia, ash, and burnished ochre lets light behave like a stain rather than a beam, pooling in translucent layers that suggest memory sedimenting into place. The composition’s fractured horizons and hovering planes imply a world in transition, turning the familiar language of shelter and terrain into a quiet meditation on instability, resilience, and the thin line between refuge and ruin.







