A cast of my own face drifts through a violent sea, wrapped in plastic that leaves no room for breath. It is caught between sinking and surviving, suspended in a moment that seems endless.

This sea is more than water. It carries the weight of fear, grief, memory, and wounds that time has never been able to heal. Each wave presses harder than the last, making every breath feel impossible.

This figure is not only my own. It carries the silent stories of mothers, daughters, sons, and all those who continue to move through darkness, searching for air.

And yet, each time we rise above the surface, we breathe again.

Not because we are no longer afraid, but because hope is stronger than fear.

As long as hope remains, so does the courage to take one more breath. Sculpted face mask, plastic, oil on canvas, with minimal AI assistance.