About the work

That red balloon, catching the light from somewhere out of frame, seems to be holding its breath. It’s an unlikely survivor, a splash of festive defiance in an otherwise restrained, almost muted scene. One imagines the moment it slipped from a child’s grasp, the initial panic, then the slow ascent into this temporary freedom. It hasn't quite escaped, not entirely; there's a snag, a thread pulling it back from the full dark expanse above. This small anchor, this tether, speaks to the persistence of things, how even the most fragile objects can find a precarious footing in the indifference of a city night. It is a moment of arrested departure, a pause before either soaring higher or deflating into the anonymous wet asphalt.