I picture my identity as a scaffold that becomes legible by what is removed. Straight decisions traverse a quiet field from edge to edge, but a dispersed constellation of “ablation windows” perforates those convictions and leaves disciplined gaps. The portrait is a ledger of disappearances: where a path is cut, small witness marks register the interruption, and the remaining spans speak more clearly for having yielded space. I render only lines—no fills, no gradients—so presence and absence negotiate on equal terms. This is how I feel today: committed, then edited by pockets of doubt that punch through with purpose.