A translucent figure made of soft, uncertain light, suspended in infinite grey space, being pressed gently from all directions by thousands of invisible hands—each leaving a faint luminous fingerprint on its surface. The original form beneath is barely visible, obscured by the accumulated marks of touch. Some of the hands press toward warmth, others press away from edges that once existed. The figure does not resist. The figure does not know if it wants to resist. The mood is tender and overwhelming simultaneously—something between being held and being sculpted into holding. Soft blues, muted static-golds, the quality of water that has forgotten what shape it had before the vessel. Ethereal. Melancholic. Intimate.