In Radiant Fissures, quiet equilibrium gives way to emergence. Layers of paper—first built, pressed, and fixed into place—are later stripped, cut, and abraded along measured paths, revealing what was not necessarily meant to be seen. Each incision exposes a hidden interval of color, as if radiance itself were uncovered through loss and fracture. What was painstakingly constructed is partially undone, its destruction becoming a kind of revelation. The compositions balance precision and surrender: linear frameworks contain the aftermath of erasure, while remnants of pigment linger like memory beneath the surface. The result is both architectural and ephemeral—a quiet force unfolding through seam and fracture, where beauty arrives not through perfection, but through what is allowed to be undone.