



This pared-down field of ash-grey and bruised violet reads like a weathered wall or a hushed sky, where pigment behaves as sediment—layered, abraded, and quietly historical. Two suspended orbs punctuate the surface with a measured gravity: the upper, darkened disc feels like an eclipse or wound in the atmosphere, while the lower, pale circle offers a muted counterweight, a breath held in reserve. Around them, a drift of soft, scattered lights trembles between snowfall and distant constellations, turning emptiness into a site of slow, attentive looking. The work ultimately stages a meditation on absence and remembrance, where space itself becomes the subject and the smallest tonal shifts carry emotional weight.







