A nocturnal landscape emerges from veils of black, where acid greens pool across the ground like phosphorescent memory and lead the eye inward along a wavering path. Above, a bruised sky ignites in ochres and ember-reds, its restless strokes pressing against the horizon as if weather and feeling were the same force. The silhouetted trees read less as botanical fact than as witnesses—thin vertical pulses that measure time, distance, and a quiet, unsettled hope. In the tension between luminous field and engulfing dark, the work stages a meditation on passage: a place both sheltering and unstable, lit from within rather than by any visible sun.