Strata of Witness is not about landscape. It is about accumulation.

The surface is divided, but not separated. Each layer holds what came before it. What is buried does not disappear. It remains, compressed, carried forward.

The upper band sits heavily. Not empty, but unresolved. A space where presence has thinned, where what once existed is no longer visible but not gone. It does not explain itself. It absorbs.

Beneath it, the surface fractures. What appears clean is interrupted. Something pushes through. Not violently, but persistently. A record surfacing without permission.

The base does not move. It holds everything in place. Fixed. Built over. What settles here is not resolved. It is contained.

This work does not accuse. It records. What is layered is not history. It is ongoing.