Interlaced

Two heads tilt back from the same axis — one dense, fully rendered in engraving-fine lines over a dark ground; the other a near-transparent outline pressed against pale linen. Where they converge at the throat, the skin gives way: red muscle, exposed and fibrous, runs from jaw to chest as anatomy rather than wound. Neither figure resolves the other. The solid one carries weight and shadow; the translucent one holds the geometry of a form not yet committed to matter. Between them, at the throat, the image stops concealing its interior. What interlacing does here is structural — two states of the same body, occupying the same space without merging.