18”x18” Mixed Media
The ground holds its layers like memory holds injustice. Compressed, dark, one resistance laid over another. From it rise structures built by human hands: walls that mark where bodies may not go, boundaries drawn by power and maintained by force. Between them, a pale form has emerged from the layering itself — not broken, not erased, but persisting. The amber beneath cannot break through. These barriers were made — border walls, prison walls, the walls constructed around women’s lives — and what is made can wound, can contain, can press down for generations. But something remains. It will not disappear.
18”x18” Mixed Media
The ground holds its layers like memory holds injustice. Compressed, dark, one resistance laid over another. From it rise structures built by human hands: walls that mark where bodies may not go, boundaries drawn by power and maintained by force. Between them, a pale form has emerged from the layering itself — not broken, not erased, but persisting. The amber beneath cannot break through. These barriers were made — border walls, prison walls, the walls constructed around women’s lives — and what is made can wound, can contain, can press down for generations. But something remains. It will not disappear.