

This intricate ink drawing stages a dreamlike ecology where striped, hybrid creatures drift between dense, stippled ground and flowering branches, as if nature and ornament have quietly exchanged roles. The stark black-and-white patterning—punctuated by pulses of coral-pink—creates a rhythmic push and pull: movement feels both playful and captive, like songbirds caught in the logic of textiles. Geometric patches read as windows, quilts, or portals, suggesting domestic memory stitched into the wild, and turning the landscape into a tender map of belonging. In this poised tension between control and spontaneity, the work proposes a fable about adaptation—how identity is patterned, repeated, and still capable of sudden, luminous deviation.