Silver and Bone

A bone, suspended — one end untouched, the other wrapped in silver.
Below it, parchment glows softly from behind, lit by a moving image.
The video is built from scans of the bones as they lay on the forest floor.
Form becomes flicker. Memory becomes atmosphere.
It’s a shimmer of where care begins.

A found bone, suspended. One end remains untouched, weathered by time on the forest floor. The other is polished
and covered in silver leaf. Not to decorate, but to mark. An act of care, of attention, of ritual.
Below, a sheet of parchment catches light. From behind it, a moving image is projected — a slow, flickering
reconstruction based on volumetric scans of the bones in their original resting place. The video is built through
Gaussian splatting, a process that transforms real-world presence into an unstable, living surface. Through the
parchment, this projection becomes softened, spectral.
The bone hovers in stillness. The image below shifts and trembles.
The projection does not explain the object above, it listens to it.
Together, they form a quiet tension between preservation and disappearance, between what was taken and what
remains.

What happens when care leaves a mark — and what when it leaves light?