Tiger

It does not move. It does not need to.

A white tiger sits at the centre of a burning world — orange, amber, deep violet — and looks directly at you. Around it, stone statues keep their silent watch: a horse, an eagle, witnesses frozen in time. Glass and light cut through the space at sharp angles, as if the architecture itself cannot quite contain what is inside it.

This is not a place you can name or locate. It exists somewhere between science fiction and myth, between a world we recognise and one we have never visited. The statues have stood here for centuries. The tiger is something else entirely.

You are not sure if you have stumbled into its territory, or if it has been waiting for you all along.

Silk twill, 90×90cm.