These marks are not random—they are echoes of human pain. Each strokeis a wound, a scar left behind by famine, war, and injustice I witnessed. I strip away decoration to reach the raw truth; suffering doesn’t need embellishment. The emptiness on the page speaks as loudly as the lines—it is the silence of the oppressed. The broken verticals are like fallen bodies or lost voices, while the wandering line is the fragile thread of life that binds them. I do not draw for beauty— I draw to remember, to mourn, to protest. This work is quiet, but it cries.
Size : 10.5 x 8.5 in