Transient holds the interval before change, that brief suspended moment when something is still almost itself. Made in plaster and raw pigment, it traces impermanence not as dramatic rupture but as quiet, ongoing process. The way surfaces shift imperceptibly, and nothing holds its form for long. A meditation on what it means to exist in a state of constant becoming.
Transient holds the interval before change, that brief suspended moment when something is still almost itself. Made in plaster and raw pigment, it traces impermanence not as dramatic rupture but as quiet, ongoing process. The way surfaces shift imperceptibly, and nothing holds its form for long. A meditation on what it means to exist in a state of constant becoming.
