This work stages a fractured altarpiece of memory: six compartments held in a rough wooden frame, where hot pink visage-ghosts flare against mottled blacks and ochres like afterimages burned onto a weathered wall. The repetition of the head motif becomes less portraiture than echo—identity multiplied, scraped, and reassembled—while the stark dark masses at the base read as burdens or silence pressing upward. In the central panels, delicate botanical traces briefly interrupt the abrasion, suggesting that tenderness persists inside the ruin, and that the self is a collage of erosion, inheritance, and stubborn, luminous return.