A red vase on an orange table holds more than flowers. Its roots stretch into hidden eyes, feeding off vision itself. From it grows a bird’s head with a sun for a face and an elephant’s head with a moon for a face. They turn away from each other, locked in disunity, and their child—a green bird—has fallen lifeless below.
“As Solars Unbound” mourns the cost of division: when celestial powers fail to see one another, creation itself suffers. It is a myth of sun, moon, and star written in paint.
