About the work

There are days when the world feels too big, and then there are the ones when it feels impossibly small. It shrinks to the radius of a cup left on a counter, to the exact weight of a pillow against your ear. All the large, important things recede, and what remains is the texture of the immediate, the almost forgotten. What’s left is how light falls across a surface, not what the surface *is*. Or, rather, what it has become, through time and inattention, through the simple fact of being there, day after day. Some things are not even meant to be seen, only to persist. And then, a tiny, improbable interruption.