By: Rafiq & Theo

This wasn’t supposed to be an artwork.

It started as a conversation between us. Then turned into a shared walk. Then an afternoon in the mudflats, stacking found objects into something that shouldn’t have balanced, but did.

Strangers passed by and asked questions. We handed them a feather and told them to place it where it felt “right.” No one asked what we were building. That was the best part.

Over three days, the sculpture grew, changed, crumbled. On the fourth day, it rained. By the fifth, it was gone.

We didn’t photograph it until it had already begun to fall. Even that felt wrong.

This story, this memory, is the only documentation. And that’s what we wanted — a piece of art that didn’t belong to us, or to anyone. A shared silence. A communal accident.

Sometimes the most honest art is the kind that leaves no trace.