Four arms of blue flow inward and meet, and at the meeting there is light — brighter than anything that arrived. Painted over a 2022 canvas turned ninety degrees, where the ridges of a painting that no longer exists carry all the glow.

Something in this painting has stopped moving and started giving off heat. A cobalt sanctum radiating ring after ring into an orange field — not a fortress keeping the warmth out, but the source that makes it.

One body in this painting refuses to hold still. The blue moves through a field that outnumbers it — jointed, insistent, declining to be absorbed — until you stay long enough to hear it was a passage all along.