NO FEELING IS FINAL
Ink on paper
12 × 14 × 4 inches each
2026 Northern-Southern
Two interlocked strips, marked with fragments of illegible calligraphy — marks from before language, where sadness escapes the symbolic — and then a repeated act of cutting. Each cut follows a rule, in search of control, and each time the form transforms beyond my intention: nothing is truly cut apart, yet everything becomes thinner, more fragile, more intricate. In the language of topology, what looks like a knot here is an unknot. Grief works this way. We try to master it, to thin it out, to turn it inside out, only to find there is no other side to reach. What shifts is not the bond but the configuration through which it lives in us. Grief does not end; it reorganizes. The surface continues.
