It’s a scene of potential—waiting for the human touch to activate it. Quietly speaking through the steam of regrets. A composition that defies replication.
This is not an image. This is a singular act of material existence drawn on hand-torn fabric that refuses to be smooth, scanned, or codified. The imperfections are the point.
Pencil on cotton, framed on black paper. Measures: 21x14.8 cm.
If you are around Cork and you prefer to collect, get in touch.
