The Threshold

“Neither Stone Nor Flesh” · 2026

Here I split the body exactly down the middle: one half turned to stone, cracked, almost glassy; the other stayed warm flesh. A single body caught on the threshold between them. The hands — one of stone, one alive — each rest on the shoulder that matches them, as if holding on to itself from both sides at once, not knowing which one to believe is truer. Exactly where the two halves meet, along the spine, I drew a thin thread of gold, the only thing holding them together without blending them. The Threshold isn't about choosing to stay stone or to stay flesh. It's about everything that happens while you choose neither.