
About the work
This is not where it was meant to die. It wanted snow, a white quiet, the engine finally cooling, but instead there’s only dust, and the patient sun. The willows have begun to pull it down, leaf by slow leaf.

About the work
This is not where it was meant to die. It wanted snow, a white quiet, the engine finally cooling, but instead there’s only dust, and the patient sun. The willows have begun to pull it down, leaf by slow leaf.