Striped Metamorphosis

January #003. This work emerged from questioning what remains when the boundaries that define us can no longer hold. The figure doesn't resist its dissolution into pattern but becomes the dissolution itself, each stripe a fault line where selfhood meets system, where organic form surrenders to geometric logic. I wanted to explore that precise moment when identity stops being containment and becomes dispersal. The patterns don't destroy the figure so much as reveal what it always was: a temporary agreement between forces, a coherent shape held together by convention rather than necessity. In collapse, we see the beautiful honesty of that arrangement coming undone. The pod-like forms clustering where coherence fails interest me most. They suggest something generative in breakdown, seeds or nodes of potential that only become visible when the smooth surface cracks. This is the paradox of collapse aesthetics: degradation as revelation, failure as creative opportunity. Those sharp geometric intrusions penetrating from above represent the external pressures we face constantly—economic, technological, environmental. But rather than simply crushing what lies beneath, they catalyze transformation. The figure spirals inward toward that teal vortex, not death but metamorphosis. I see this as documentation of what happens when we stop trying to maintain impossible coherence, when we allow the patterns that shape us to become visible rather than hidden beneath the performance of stability. There is strange elegance in that surrender, a rhythm that emerges only when control fails and the underlying structure finally shows itself.