In the Mother and Child: Vermilion Sand series, familiar archetypes emerge through quartz sand held in fragile suspension: a mother cradling a child, a veiled face, a gesture of care. The images feel worn and uncertain, as though glimpsed through dust, time, or failing memory. Echoes of devotional imagery remain, but without fixed doctrine or certainty. The figures hover between presence and disappearance, carrying traces of tenderness, protection, grief, and reverence without resolving into symbol alone. There is no painterly gesture here. No brushstroke. The images seem less applied than uncovered, as if exposed through erosion or excavation. Detail loosens into granules. Edges soften. What remains is a presence altered by process. The material itself speaks of impermanence. Sand does not hold. It shifts, gathers, disperses; it forgets.




