Our Elephant (The Depths of Desire)

Against a bruised field of maroons and earthen reds, the horse appears less as a portrait than as an apparition—its body coaxed out of abrasion, erasure, and restless charcoal-like marks. A stark vertical seam of white cleaves the composition like a wound or a threshold, turning the animal into a divided presence suspended between endurance and disappearance. The dense, scumbled texture reads as accumulated time—labor, memory, and weather—so that the figure becomes a metaphor for resilience under pressure, held together by gesture even as it frays at the edges.