Deep gray tones and heavy blacks build a dense, almost tectonic space. The material appears cracked, like a surface eroded by time. Red is reduced to a minimal presence, pushed aside by darkness. The gesture is harsh, carved, as if the paint had forced its way through.
This work reveals the rawest face of the present: the weight that simply being sometimes carries. In Inhala, not everything is light. There are moments that hurt without story, instants where consciousness becomes body. This piece is a root: it anchors us to the now even when uncomfortable. It reminds us that living is also about moving through.
