Humanity is stripped down to its bare bones – literally. A skeletal figure, bisected by a black cross and crowned with a jagged halo of both martyrdom and menace. Behind it, a chorus of skulls looms like a tribunal, their hollow eyes bleeding red, amplifying the sense of judgment and inevitability.

Text fragments slash across the surface, reading like accusations scrawled on a prison wall. Kerr’s palette of bone white, blood red, and ashen grey is punctuated by violent black strokes, creating a visual rhythm that feels urgent, almost apocalyptic. The skeletal form becomes a symbol of stripped identity, a body reduced to structure, waiting for the final tick.

This work is a confrontation with mortality and control. It asks: when systems strip us bare, what remains? It doesn’t whisper -it shouts, reminding us that time is running out