A constellation of smooth, obsidian-like forms is suspended against the wall, each one ruptured to reveal a tender interior of icy blues and chalky whites—like geodes turned inside out. The stark gallery lighting sharpens their duality, casting long, bodily shadows that make each object feel at once protective and exposed, a shell holding its own weather. In the repetition of similar silhouettes, difference becomes the true subject: every cavity reads as a private wound or sanctuary, suggesting that what appears sealed and uniform is quietly carved by pressure, time, and hidden light.