Theatre of Instinct

A body folds in on itself as if to evade the gaze, yet in the very impulse to hide it becomes an icon. In place of a face, a goose: not a disguise but a sign. The animal head is both collar and crown, protection and sentence, instinct and mask. The green drape behind is curtain, set, still water—a stage where identity migrates between species. Here metamorphosis is not fantasy but necessity: a form of truth that moves through the body when words are not enough…