This canvas was painted the day after the attack that shattered the windows of my studio in Podil. At first, I wanted to throw away the debris. Then I realized that every shard of glass and stone I picked up from the floor held the memory of our resistance. By mixing brick dust with thick acrylic paint, I restructured the surface to create scars of light. It is no longer a wound; it is the beginning of our reconstruction.

I gathered the fragments near the construction site without asking—no one was looking. On the canvas, they form an improvised emblem: stone, water, horizontal line. Podil's grandmother told me, "Stones remember better than we do." I left the edges raw, unstretched—fragility is part of the story. This work is the first I submitted to the catalog; it still carries the smell of plaster.

Rodolphe worked in silence for three sessions. Literal material + family memory. Staff validation: pivotal work of the program — ruins held in the palm.