A taut circular field floats within a weathered square, as if a memory has been stretched, pinned, and asked to hold its shape. Horizontal bands cool the palette into pale blues and ash, while repeated stone-like forms—punctuated by earthen browns—read like a quiet inventory of presences, simultaneously orderly and fragile. Vein-like threads and torn edges interrupt the grid, suggesting that beneath systems of containment and repetition, something organic continues to seep through, insisting on imperfection and drift. The work becomes a meditation on thresholds: between map and body, archive and erosion, the desire to classify and the inevitability of change.