// Statement.jsx — full artist statement page
const Statement = ({ onNav }) => {
  const { Reveal } = window;
  return (
    <div>
      <section className="band-ink" style={{padding:'80px 0 72px'}}>
        <div className="wrap" style={{maxWidth:760}}>
          <div className="kicker-row" style={{marginBottom:20}}>
            <span className="flare-dot"></span><span className="eyebrow on-dark">Artist statement</span>
          </div>
          <h1 style={{fontFamily:'var(--font-display)', fontWeight:900, color:'var(--veil)',
                      fontSize:'clamp(36px,4.6vw,64px)', letterSpacing:'-0.025em', lineHeight:1.02,
                      marginBottom:24}}>
            Drury Bynum
          </h1>
          <p className="lead on-dark" style={{maxWidth:560, fontStyle:'italic'}}>
            Can something broken become more truthful than something whole?
          </p>
        </div>
      </section>

      <section className="section band-veil">
        <div className="wrap" style={{maxWidth:760}}>
          <Reveal>
            <div style={{display:'flex', flexDirection:'column', gap:22}}>
              <p className="lead">
                I make paintings that behave like memories — part image, part residue, never entirely
                settled. They begin with the familiar weight of a figure in space, light moving across
                a face or a sleeve, and then something interrupts. The surface opens, fragments, resists
                completion. I follow that break, rebuilding the image until it carries its own history
                inside it. I keep circling the same question: can something broken become more truthful
                than something whole?
              </p>
              <p className="body">
                The figures that arrive feel less like subjects than presences. In <em>The Seraphic Veil</em>,
                they take the form of witnesses — beings attuned to a larger field of experience. Their
                veils, assembled from fragments of the visual world, don't conceal so much as retune
                perception. They suggest a mind listening in two directions at once, receiving something
                felt but not fully seen.
              </p>
              <p className="body">
                I often begin with generated images to provoke unexpected collisions, but the work
                becomes real in the slowing down — in the dismantling, the revisions, the physical labor
                of rebuilding. By the end, the origin is less important than the transformation.
              </p>
              <p className="body">
                I want the paintings to feel uncovered rather than invented, as if they've returned from
                somewhere carrying traces of it. From a distance they hold; up close they shift, fracture,
                and reveal their making. They don't resolve. They stay active.
              </p>
              <p className="body dim">
                If they work, they become a kind of company — something that continues to unfold, long
                after the first encounter.
              </p>
            </div>
          </Reveal>

          <Reveal delay={120}>
            <div style={{display:'flex', gap:20, marginTop:48}}>
              <button className="btn btn-ink" onClick={() => onNav('series/seraphic-veil')}>View the work →</button>
              <button className="btn btn-ghost-ink" onClick={() => onNav('about')}>About the artist →</button>
            </div>
          </Reveal>
        </div>
      </section>
    </div>
  );
};
Object.assign(window, { Statement });