Frozen Dream of Time

Description

Here, time doesn’t flow — it has curled up and fallen asleep. The mass of wood bends into the recognizable shape of an infinity symbol: one half of the form flows into the other, which coils into a loop and curves back again, never quite finding the point where the motion could come to rest. It is a loop without a beginning, a closed gesture endlessly repeating itself — an image of time not as an arrow, but as a ring, where past and future become indistinguishable from one another.

At the center of one of the coils sits a dark, circular opening. Not an eye, not emptiness in the ordinary sense, but the very core of the sleep itself — the point where the ring pauses for a moment before continuing its endless turn. The weathered, deeply grooved surface of the wood reads like skin creased by centuries of slumber — evidence not of decay, but of long, undisturbed rest.

The sculpture hovers on two thin steel supports, barely touching the ground, as though the form itself were too light for gravity, too absorbed in its own dream to settle fully into reality. It exists in the space between sleep and waking, suspended like a thought that hasn’t yet decided whether it wants to wake up.

Additional information