A bruised field of mauve holds a fractured horizon of greys, whites, and soot-black interruptions, as if an urban silhouette has been scraped from memory and reassembled in static. The surface oscillates between construction and erasure—vertical smears read like rain on glass or worn facades, while chipped, stuttering marks suggest the relentless noise of lived space. Light is not painted so much as excavated, emerging in pale flashes that feel like brief clarity within an atmosphere of fatigue. The work becomes a meditation on presence after disturbance, where the city is less a place than a lingering vibration between intimacy and overload.