Against a pared-back horizon of sand and sky, a crumpled, candy-wrapped mass is staged like a displaced body—part toy, part refuse—its saturated blues and yellows insisting on visibility even as it collapses in on itself. The thin chain pulled by a cropped, anonymous arm introduces a quiet violence of control, converting the small wheeled cart into a metaphor for how consumption drags its own aftermath across otherwise pristine space. In this stark compositional theater, the exaggerated emptiness becomes indictment: a vast, indifferent world made complicit by the ease with which waste is moved out of sight, yet never truly away.