Foal

Against a void of black, an adult horse rises as bones alone, caught mid-gallop like a prayer that forgot its flesh. A red, pixelated star flares behind it burning with the fever of a New Year not yet born. The skeleton calls itself Foal, a tender lie whispered through empty ribs, a sharp. It yearns for beginnings, for the soft promise of youth, even as it embodies the undeniable fact of its ending. This is a satirical resurrection: a dead horse dressed in hope, naming itself after innocence while knowing it cannot return. In 2026, The Year of the Horse, it leaps defiant, ironic, and desperate, testing whether motion alone can masquerade as rebirth. Every new year begins with a ghost of what came before, still running, still wishing, still dead. This print is on heavy, glossy 68 lb paper.