Black World: To live is to die. White will soon be completely enveloped by black. White is not just a sculpture, but a living being with heat. It is moving beautifully toward death, as if dancing. The body speaks to the idea that being alive means resisting, changing, and moving toward the end. I feel "I am here" more now than when I was in the white world, which was black, murky, heavy, and full of suffering. Black is not death. It is the reverberation of life and proof of existence.