Crowned by Choice (He traded his head for a throne he hasn’t earned yet)

A young king sits with a sword in his own hand. He has used it to sever his head — a head made from a discarded tissue paper roll. A golden crown rests above the empty space where his mind should be.

This is not regicide by a rival. This is regicide by choice. The title refuses the excuse of fate. Power did not take his head. He gave it.

The materials speak the same language as the act: the crown is gold, solid, permanent. The head is trash, hollow, used up. A hierarchy of value is carved into the work itself. The piece asks what a generation trades when it reaches for thrones too early. Status over substance. Title over thought. Appearance over self.