These sculptures are built for a moment you cannot see in a photograph. For 1.6 seconds, a flash of light and a burst of sound strike together—four measures of music compressed into pure sensation. The viewer doesn’t observe the work; they inhabit it. What follows is silence and after-image, the echo of a perception too brief to name. Each piece begins as a musical phrase translated into geometry: loops and lattices that record vibration in physical space. The resin holds the memory of sound; the light restores it. What you see here is the resting state of an event—structures designed to host disappearance. My aim is to cultivate a language of synesthesia, where sound becomes sight and thought becomes tactile. The sculptures invite interpretation rather than explanation. Meaning arises only through participation—when the viewer feels perception itself becoming the medium.