Echoes of Flesh

Two hollow torsos stand side by side, sculpted from fragile mesh—ghosts of bodies once whole. They are both present and absent, their forms pierced with voids, as if eaten away by time, memory, or violence.

The left figure bears the suggestion of strength, a chest rising as though once proud, while the right is softer, more eroded, its outline dissolving into transparency. Together, they become a dialogue of presence and loss—of humanity reduced to silhouettes, of survival etched in absence.

“Echoes of Flesh” is not the body itself, but the memory of the body—the lingering trace of life, suspended between existence and disappearance.