In this installation, remnants of automotive history become messengers between past and present. A salvaged engine block—that most quintessential symbol of American industrial might—rests in rusted dignity, while above it, mechanical armatures reach upward in a delicate choreography of weight and weightlessness. The golden form suspended at the apex suggests both precious relic and forbidden fruit, creating a vertical narrative of aspiration and decay.

The artist transforms the gallery into a site of generational exchange, where industrial artifacts become conduits for inherited knowledge. The repeating pink marks marching up the wall evoke punch cards, tally marks, or daily time sheets—the quiet accounting of lives spent in factories and repair shops. A single blue neon element cuts through this mechanical genealogy like a modern pulse, bridging the gap between analog past and digital present.

Here, transmission isn't just about gears and torque—it's about what passes from hand to hand, parent to child, master to apprentice. The work stands as a meditation on how technical knowledge moves through time, and what's lost or transformed in that passage. In an age of touchscreens and autonomous vehicles, these mechanical ghosts remind us of when understanding came through direct contact with metal and oil, timing and torque.