This piece is not a conclusion
it is a parallel beginning.
If Through the Glass revealed the view from a locked room,
Cell but Shelter stays inside.
It confronts, not observes.
It captures not memory, but its architecture
compressed, contained, unresolved.
In this monochrome frame, color is absent,
but emotion is not silent.
Here, stillness does not imply peace
it conceals imbalance, surveillance, and restrained resistance.
At the lower edge of the painting,
a pig stands on a beaded haetae, a mythical guardian beast.
This pig does not symbolize triumph.
It is not escaping. It is imagining flight.
It is still being trampled
but roaring to survive.
The room was both a cell and a shelter.
It confined me,
but it was also where I first began to draw,
to imagine,
to breathe.
This is not a moment of catharsis.
It is where the silence began to crack
