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A swirling expanse of red plaster, textured like torn flesh, surrounds a dark central void—cracked with lightning, trembling with silence. The Heart of the Storm confronts us with the duality of red: the color of life-force and blood, but also of anger, rupture, and grief. At its center, the emptiness pulses with quiet energy. This void is not absence, but potential. It is in the eye of chaos, when all is stripped away, that we are invited to meet ourselves again—raw, resolute, and whole. Strength is not found in the absence of pain, but in the stillness we find within it.