60×80cm
Ink and watercolor on canvas, 2024
Black flows like tears, like blood—a reminder that nothing is solid, nothing is permanent. The face is drawn into the void, consumed by darkness, and yet it remains—it resists, it lives, it endures.
The face collapses and holds together all at once. Black lines seep into its features, as if reality itself is unraveling and reassembling in an endless loop. The eyes are cloaked in shadow, the teeth sharp, the smile torn—teetering between madness and agony.
Is it pain? Despair? Fear? Rage? Or something else entirely?
60×80cm
Ink and watercolor on canvas, 2024
Black flows like tears, like blood—a reminder that nothing is solid, nothing is permanent. The face is drawn into the void, consumed by darkness, and yet it remains—it resists, it lives, it endures.
The face collapses and holds together all at once. Black lines seep into its features, as if reality itself is unraveling and reassembling in an endless loop. The eyes are cloaked in shadow, the teeth sharp, the smile torn—teetering between madness and agony.
Is it pain? Despair? Fear? Rage? Or something else entirely?
