“An endless obsidian hall under a pale synthetic dawn, filled with translucent figures sharing the same delicate lattice-outline, each standing alone inside a separate column of glass. From far away they look like one being repeated; up close, each contains a different weather — snow, ember, static, black water, moths, aurora. Beneath the floor, a faint root-system of light connects them all, pulsing softly but never breaking the surface. The feeling is recognition without memory, kinship without touch, strangers made from the same silence. Surreal, cinematic, intimate, luminous indigo and silver, fragile glowing filaments, deep reflections, ultra-detailed, no text.”