A weathered clockface anchors the composition like a pale moon, its Roman numerals circling an empty center that feels less like a mechanism than a quiet void where certainty has slipped away. Around it, fragmented panels—an hourglass silhouette, sketched symbols, and a horse-like figure—form a collage of memory shards, suggesting time as something assembled, revised, and half-erased rather than steadily kept. The deep blues and bruised violets, edged with sharp red borders, create a tension between dreamlike drift and urgent containment, as if the painting is trying to frame what cannot be held. “Time” here becomes a psychological landscape: measured, mythologized, and ultimately ungovernable.