Fallen Sentinel I


Stoneware clay, stainless steel, clay slip, h, 156mm.


Tilting toward rest or ruin. A broken watchfulness, fractured but not erased.



This fallen head, tilted and resting on its side, evokes a quiet  and unsettling vulnerability. Its matte, granular surface — dusted like ash or salt — suggests both erosion and preservation, as if excavated from some forgotten stratum or cast adrift from history. The eye forms are closed or sealed, inward-looking, yet the geometry of the orbital ridges and the shallow, softened mouth retains an alertness — an awareness dulled but not extinguished.

The head’s placement on its side breaks the expected dignity of upright display, inviting associations with defeat, martyrdom, sleep, or dreaming. Its orientation disorients; we are forced to reconsider our approach. This is not a portrait in the traditional sense — it resists narrative closure — but something more elemental: a vessel of memory, a relic of cognition, a latent sensorium.



Despite its decay, the work does not collapse into ruin. Its silent mass persists — anchored by time and gesture — like a planetary body scarred by orbit. The effect is solemn, and even tender: a reminder that sentience, even when stilled, leaves a trace in matter.

Next → Witness I