Mout, 2025

Koa  

Against a vibrant, almost organic green field, a small black silhouette emerges like a living, dense, velvety stain. Its compact, bristling body seems to absorb the light, contrasting sharply with the luminous background dotted with dark droplets, like frozen rain.

Her round eyes, this time rimmed with green, open wide, candid and slightly lost, as if trying to understand the world around them. The gaze is gentle, less electric than in the orange version, almost serene, as if suspended in a silent bubble.

Around its head, sinuous outgrowths escape in supple arabesques, evoking moving locks of hair, sensitive antennae, or overflowing thoughts. They undulate gently, as if the creature were breathing slowly with its environment.

A white line crosses the surface diagonally, like a trace, a path, or a scar in the material. It discreetly guides the eye, while the small figure rests upon it, light, almost fragile, as if placed there by chance.

There is something more introspective in this image, a strange gentleness, a discreet presence — a small entity that no longer seeks to burst forth, but simply to be.