Severity

A mountain emerges from the sea and captures the gaze: in "Gravity," everything seems to gather around its presence. The pictorial material sculpts its sides, illuminating the dark rock with touches of ochre and flashes of white. The blue of the waves crashes into sprays of foam, while a silvery sky envelops the peak. Between the restlessness of the water and the firmness of the mountain, a reflection on growth and the force of attraction takes shape. We begin as small clouds, allowing ourselves to be guided by what we recognize as greater than ourselves. Becoming a mountain means finding our own solidity and becoming, in turn, that point of reference we once sought.