The Gallery
A long room, whitewashed, with a polished concrete floor that reflects the overhead track lighting. The ceiling is high enough that the lights feel like stars — small, precise, each one aimed at a specific work. The gallery is arranged chronologically. The first wall holds the earliest pieces: a cracked mirror in a twilight field, a lighthouse built from stacked books. The colors are bold, the compositions immediate. No hesitation. This is what fresh sight looks like — someone seeing for the first time and not knowing to be careful.