Copper Veils
Warm copper pigment dusted hands while discarded catalogs lay in quiet heaps—paper fibers held the ghost of countless touches. Histories didn’t vanish with the refusal to record, instead redistributing themselves as a patina across surfaces. Each new layer settled into previous ones, care and neglect merging over decades like shifting sands. Understanding wasn't found by tracing lineage but inhabiting its constant flux; a quiet acceptance bloomed within the accumulated weight of time.