Cycle 4 – The Architecture of Us – Constellation of Shelter

Some bonds are invisible.

Not because they are absent — but because they operate in silence, running deep, constant. Like roots that never show themselves, yet hold everything together.

This work unfolds the story of three connected presences: a winged woman, a winged wolf, and the child between them.

As in each of my pieces, the composition is built layer by layer. Every line, every texture takes part in a silent narrative, woven from organic forms and meticulously composed mandalas. Nothing is left to chance: each element is a fragment of language — a way of writing without words.

The wolf’s tree, on the left, evokes a force in transformation. Its structure blends the organic and the mechanical, much like his wings. The mandala surrounding it reveals an inner territory crossed by water, where discreet figures emerge — among them a protective presence, almost hidden.

On the right, the woman’s tree rises toward the future. Its branches carry impulses, possibilities. The mandala around her acts as a mirror: a sensitive mapping of her memory, her silences, her buried depths. An intimate architecture, between what is shown and what resists.

At the heart of the composition, the child’s mandala forms a central, almost sacred space. An identity in the making. Within it lie fragments of intertwined worlds — passages, presences, forms drawn from both reality and imagination — like a language still under construction.

Together, they form a constellation: a system of bonds, protections, and silent tensions.

A fragile and essential architecture.

This work is part of a slow, immersive process — a space of focus, grounding, and transformation. More than a visual construction, it is a place of reflection, repair, and projection.