Toko Okamoto’s first solo exhibition in a year and a half.

Will the passion that smoulders in the dark, like a fire banked under ash, fade at last into a still and empty air?

Or will it rise again as flame, and show itself burning bright?

A woman’s quiet passion breathes softly within her breast,
like an ember banked in the dark.
Will that presence — dissolving into shadow, brushing the depths of the soul, faintly resounding — fade at last into a still and empty air?
Or will it rise again as flame, and appear, blazing?