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Art unfolds in the space between intention and accident, where creativity is both force and surrender. It is a practice of seeing—of unraveling the familiar to reveal the infinite. Passion moves like breath through each gesture, a quiet insistence that turns repetition into ritual. Materials speak in their own dialects, resisting, yielding, shaping the rhythm of making. Observation becomes translation, a way of grasping what is fleeting and binding it to form. In this cycle of creation, destruction, and renewal, meaning does not settle; it lingers, shifting, waiting to be found again.