A slow drift moves across an unseen field, pulling dust, light, and memory into its wake. At first glance, the image suggests a galactic current, but the forms resist clarity — textures ripple like deep water, while scattered light fractures hint at something submerged rather than revealed.

The tide is neither violent nor still. It bears traces of forces that pass through space and time without name. Dark orbs appear — not as centers of gravity, but as absorptions, as if thought itself were being pulled beneath the surface. Color emerges only where resistance breaks the flow.

What moves here may not be matter, but the memory of motion.