Under the rare light of the Amdo plateau, everything begins with an incandescent spiral: filaments of gold, orange, and deep red irrigate the substance, like the imprint of ancient time upon stone. The form, never literal, evokes the ammonite, fossilized movement, living memory, endless expansion.
Each luminous trace marks the passage of time, alternating density and breath, between telluric depth and the brilliance of the instant. Amdo, land of high plateaus and silence, lets the persistence of forgotten energy emerge, an ancestral movement, the secret of an awakening earth.