The background goes down first: many thin passes of egg tempera, masked and layered into a hard-edged architectural grid — order, hierarchy, structure. The plant goes down last, its shape designed only once the grid is finished, placed directly into that structure. The tension between the built world and the thing pushing back against it is the whole series.

Fungi return wood and leaf litter to the ground they came from — the whole job is transformation, matter passing from one form into another. The supports underneath do the same thing: vellum is skin, stretched and prepared into something to draw on; paper is wood, pressed into the same role. Subject and support, both once something else.