Umbrellas (2017 - ongoing)

They bloom like temporary churches—canvas domes shielding skin from sun, cloth stretched taut against rain. I’ve spent a lifetime watching them: striped sentinels on beaches, black spines in stormy streets. But what fascinates me is their duality. Open, they carve geometry from chaos; closed, they become riddles. Light bleeds through their ribs, casting lace onto pavement. They are both armor and invitation.