Gravity Rose

Abyss stacked upon abyss, this painting is built of black lines, some sharp as razors, others soft as breath pulling inward like the hush before revelation. Each layer draws the eye to its vanishing point: a single rose, rendered in ultra black, darker than shadow, darker than doubt. It blooms in silence, swallowing light. Bright white highlights edge the form, not to illuminate, but to remind us it's real. In this void, the rose is both wound and witness, a gravity well of memory and mourning. This is not emptiness, it is the architecture of absence.