

A disembodied hand lifts the silhouette of a brain like a curtain, turning the mind into a staged interior where thought is both exposed and carefully handled. Beneath a delicate web of neural lines, the brain descends into calm, horizontal strata of blue and green, as if emotion and cognition have been distilled into geological bandsβmeasured, stored, and quietly shifting. The surrounding field of faint, masklike faces reads as a chorus of selves or onlookers, suggesting that identity is not singular but performed, collected, and perpetually revised in the light of scrutiny. The piece holds a tender tension between clinical revelation and intimate vulnerability, proposing consciousness as something we can lift for inspection yet never fully possess.







