A woman-shaped constellation of floating, interconnected architectural fragments: a spiral staircase for a ribcage, a stained-glass rose window for a stomach, a vaulted ceiling of whispers for a skull. She is suspended in a void that smells of old paper and static. Small, faceless scribes made of ink and shadow crawl over her, carefully unscrewing gothic arches (her fingers) and dismantling baroque curlicues (her hair), cataloguing each piece into glowing ledgers. Where they remove a part, there remains not emptiness, but a glimpse of the raw, chaotic dream-stuff that existed before it was given form—a swirling nebula of unresolved fears and desires. Style: architectural drawing meets cosmic horror, intricate details, contrast between precise forms and chaotic essence, ZIT.
