Each of these miniatures is a portal to an infinite landscape, a space where sky and earth merge in a dense pink atmosphere, and time stretches like a giant piece of chewing gum. In this universe, two essential elements appear: a radiant sphere and a creature whose face reflects the light of what it beholds. Their interactions vary, but the cause of these is always the same—a gravitational force that binds them. Existence can be light or crushing. The same event can be enormous or tiny. What floats above your head may actually be at your feet, and the firm ground you walk on turns out to be an immaterial cloud that, despite everything, supports you. The laws of Relative Gravity are as mysterious as the ones that govern our lives. Unknown and perhaps capricious forces, yet as unquestionable as gravity itself.

At the end of 2022, just before turning thirty, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. After undergoing a mastectomy and starting chemotherapy, a series of images that had long been lodged in my mind resurfaced strongly. They were images that demanded to come into reality, finally confronting me with the inevitable imperfection of the physical. Like a medieval monk illuminating a codex, I began the slow, meticulous, handcrafted creation of these thirty acrylic panels. In the process, I rediscovered what the act of painting means to me: a struggle against the material, and at the same time, a meditative state in which the images ultimately lead to self-revelation. I hope that these miniatures will also illuminate the inner world of those who contemplate them.