Forms of Serenity follows a lotus from a single burst of color into a hush of monochrome. Color recedes so that form, edge and scar can speak. Rooted in wabi?sabi and mono no aware, the work looks for serenity in impermanence and the patina of time. The black and white chapter begins with a young pod, unravels through petals loosening, and returns to the pod’s eroded rim before a bowed stem closes the loop. A dark ground and spare compositions favor restraint over spectacle. I am less interested in the specimen than in how time gathers on a surface—how presence thins into memory.
