Staircases, walls, doors, voids, and spheres of every scale — all contained within a single circle. At first glance it reads as a vast architectural space, yet the more closely you follow its logic, the further the structure drifts from any building that could exist. A staircase that seemed to climb connects instead to another wall; a shadow mistaken for an entrance offers no exit; even the sense of scale grows uncertain. Only the small human silhouettes scattered throughout betray just how immense — and how strange — this world truly is. A colossal sphere floats near the top, a smaller one at its side. Further below, another small sphere lingers — the same form repeated at different scales. They could be celestial bodies, memories, or reference points placed here to measure the unmeasurable. The palette is ruled by limestone grey, aged-paper ochre, ink black, and scorched brown. Gold appears not as ornament but sparingly — in columns, slender verticals, fragments of wall — functioning like faint coordinates left behind inside an overwhelming structure. From a distance: one immense world held inside a circle. Up close: scratches and cracks in the walls, minute markings, openings, isolated figures, and pathways that never quite connect to one another. This work has no clear destination. Are we truly moving somewhere? Or are we simply walking on inside the feeling of moving forward? The staircases are countless. But which one is the right staircase is never shown. And so this architecture is a labyrinth — and at the same time, one vast coordinate system that keeps trying, and keeps failing, to measure life itself.