Daijiro Hama Japan, 1984
A cube of silence rises in the diffused light, woven from thousands of lines like frozen thoughts. Inside, no figure—only the trace of a wandering mind, folded into the geometry of its reflections. The layers of ink, patient and dense, form an inner labyrinth, where every turn seems to seek a way back to the world. The structure breathes in fragments, between fullness and void, between the spoken and the unsaid. Here, the drawing becomes a whisper: that of withdrawal, of buried memory, or of a dream slowly etched onto the skin of the page.
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