A single leaf, rendered as a spare contour, hovers like a remembered gesture against a field of scraped, stratified planes that read as both wall and weathered skin. The restrained palette of bone, sand, and ash lets light become the true pigment, catching on ridges and incisions so the surface breathes with quiet erosion. Suspended between fragility and endurance, the leaf’s veined structure echoes the fractured geometry behind it, suggesting nature’s blueprint persisting even as time abrades and reorders its ground. The work feels like an elegy to impermanence—where growth is not depicted lushly, but as an imprint that refuses to vanish.