In Fragmented Whispers, the past and present collide through a rhythmic dissection of space and text. Vertical strips sever the composition, revealing glimpses of an obscured narrative; words in English scattered like echoes lost in time. Beneath this fracture, earthy hues of roots and leaves intertwine, nature persisting despite the disruption.
A vivid red twig slash carves through the piece, a pulse of urgency amid the muted browns and greens. The fragmented text hints at a forgotten dialogue, a story both broken and continuous, waiting to be reassembled.
There is silence in the gaps, weight in the missing words and a sense that something once whole has been undone.