My son found a deer antler alone in the forest. He moves through the world with his own singular sense of distance — from language, from his body, and from the world around him. Watching him become deeply drawn to the antler, I find myself searching for something in his gaze.

My eight-year-old son found a deer antler in the forest by chance.

Each year, male deer shed their antlers and continue living. Something like a trace of survival seems to remain there quietly.

My son was strongly drawn to the antler. He touched it repeatedly and gradually became close to it. Sometimes I wonder if he feels connected to it as if it were part of himself.

This forest is also a place I have walked through repeatedly since my own childhood. One day, he will leave this forest and move toward a world beyond it.

This work continues to search for the contours that emerge through the unstable emotions surrounding my son and the antler.