



A haze of muted mauve spreads across the surface like a veil of forgetting, interrupted by angular fractures of ochre, teal, and ember that read as sudden recoveries of memory. The composition feels deliberately incomplete—forms are built, then erased—so that negative space becomes the true architecture, holding tension between concealment and revelation. Thin, sharp outlines act like seams in a collage, suggesting a mind trying to stitch disparate sensations into coherence while the light slips through the cracks. What emerges is a quiet psychological landscape where the act of covering is also an act of protecting, and the remaining color becomes evidence of what refuses to disappear.







