Against a velvety black ground, a jubilant procession unfurls like a living frieze—musicians, dancers, and riders stitched together by rhythmic diagonals and the forward thrust of hooves and wheels. The lacquered darkness acts as a stage, making the saturated reds, golds, and patterned textiles glow with ceremonial intensity, as if the community’s joy is its own source of light. Yet within the festivity lies a quieter narrative of continuity: generations cluster and overlap, suggesting tradition carried bodily through sound, labor, and shared movement. The distant hillside and solitary orb punctuate the pageantry with a sense of horizon—celebration not as an escape, but as a passage through time.