This sculpture feels like a moment where metal forgets its own rigidity. The brass appears to have melted, surged, and then frozen mid-flow, its surfaces folding and dipping like a liquid that suddenly remembered it was meant to be solid.
Every edge catches light in a different tone: some areas gleam sharply, others soften into buttery diffusions, creating a constantly shifting play between brightness and shadow.
The openings carved into the form are as significant as the metal itself. They behave like pauses in an evolving thought, spaces where the eye can rest before being pulled into another curve, another unexpected angle. These spaces prevent the piece from feeling heavy; instead, they give it lift, as though the structure is buoyed by the very air it frames.
There is no single orientation the viewer is meant to impose upon it. Its meaning slips, reforms, and slips again- inviting multiple readings rather than insisting on one.
What remains constant is its energy. Despite its mass, the sculpture radiates motion. It stands as a testament to how form can emerge out of fluidity, how order can rise from improvisation, and how beauty often lives in the restless spaces between the two.
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