11/25

In a fading artist’s studio building, she becomes part of the architecture — limbs stretching along chipped walls, a head resting on the edge of a stair, a leg reaching upward like an improvised line drawing. Colored tights carve neon marks through muted corridors, turning the in-between spaces of hallways and stairwells into a stage for contortion, softness, and strange intimacy. It’s a study in imbalance, vulnerability, and the art of lingering where you’re not meant to stay.