Rendered in stark black-and-white, this carved portrait uses jagged, insistent linework to turn the body into a site of testimony, where light is not painted but excavated from darkness. The figure’s wide, unblinking eyes and tightened mouth hold a quiet alarm, while the hands at the neck suggest both self-protection and the pressure of forces that cannot be named without cost. The surrounding field of frenetic hatch marks cages the sitter in a visual static, and the hand-lettered “OPPRESSOR” cuts across the torso like a wound—language becoming both accusation and scar. What emerges is a meditation on power: how it enters the skin, distorts identity, and yet, through the act of depiction, is confronted with unwavering presence.