In March On, a child walks ahead of a silent procession, tethered to a house-shaped balloon that hovers above like a fragile relic. Behind him, figures advance in single file, their silhouettes burdened and indistinct movement rendered as necessity rather than choice. A restrained palette is disrupted by small passages of colour: the child’s blue coat and the bright, floating “home” overhead. Together they sharpen the work’s central tension, between the weight of what is carried and the idea of belonging that drifts just beyond reach.