A wake, held on stairways of red earth.
Ten images from one place: walls, ramps and steps the color of the ground, a sky that closes overhead, and small candles burning along every edge. The riders come from charrería, the Mexican horsemanship tradition, dressed in white, black, cream and copper. One climbs on a white horse, one floats above the steps with his spurs pointing at ground he never touches, others walk up in single file, their hats reading as pure geometry. Nobody lights this many candles for someone still alive.
Where I grew up, mourning is a procession, not a room. This series stages that procession inside architecture that was never built. All ten images come from one base prompt, varied only in the rider's action and the camera position, then upscaled and retouched by hand. They are numbered as one climb, from the first step to the last.