Baphomet

Children do not distinguish between a game and a rite. Both require rules, both demand belief, and both are abandoned the moment boredom arrives.

This series takes that indifference seriously. Found mid-century snapshots — coated children, seaside horseplay, siblings posed for a parent's camera — are interrupted by the horned head: garden ornament, plaything, sacrifice. The children do not react. They play catch with it. They reach for it at the shoreline as though it were nothing stranger than a beach ball.

A pentagram drawn in the sand is, structurally, identical to a hopscotch grid. The occult symbol isn't smuggled into the image — it's left in the room, and the children incorporate it into whatever they were already doing.

Restrained, faded tones are punctured by hits of hot pink, blood red, ultramarine — colour operating as an alarm the figures never seem to hear.