A dense lattice of vertical strokes and stacked, window-like marks builds a trembling architecture that hovers between city grid and woven textile, as if order is being continually rewritten by the hand that insists on it. The restrained palette—ashen whites, deep umbers, and bruised traces of red—lets light seep through the interstices, turning emptiness into an active presence rather than a void. Rhythm becomes the subject: repetition that soothes at first, then frays into uncertainty, suggesting memory and systems alike—constructed, eroded, and rebuilt in the same breath.