In my practice, I seek to create a language of emotion inspired by objects and materials found in nature. By harnessing the emotional resonance of these elements, I aim to evoke a visceral response in the viewer, allowing them to feel a range of emotions and ponder larger questions. Nature's forms—its fragility, beauty, rawness, and everchanging state are central to this dialogue. A stone, a branch, a stream of water—each carries within it a narrative of strength, weakness, transience, or brilliance. It is the symbolic weight we assign to these natural elements that I wish to explore and expose, letting them speak on my behalf about the deep  and important experiences and feelings every human being goes through at some stage of their lives: love, loss, choice, fear, compassion, guilt. We become shaped by this experiences in a unique way and we continue to carry the marks of these experiences like scars and wrinkles for the rest of our lives. This is why  many of the materials I choose carry traces of past lives, of histories lived and lost. Through the mix of the natural and the personal, my works are interwoven, forming a continuous narrative that reflects both individual and collective experiences.

 

At the heart of my practice is the exploration of boundaries—between life and death, between the real and the imagined, between personal and collective, and the inevitable repetition of cycles and history that we all contribute to through our personal experiences. Our understanding of death, after all, is a construct of the imagination. We spend much of our lives not only reflecting on the past or dreaming of the future but also playing out alternate realities in our minds—scenarios that seldom align with what is tangible. These blurred lines between what is real and what is imagined, between past, present, and future, are ever-shifting and subjective. They morph to accommodate our emotional states, our memories, and our longings. Memories, too, evolve, shaped by time and desire, often becoming projections of unfulfilled dreams or untold stories. My work attempts to create spaces imbued with a sense of otherworldliness or split reality, inviting the viewer to search for deeper and other  meanings within the familiar, to reconsider the objects and scenes that populate these spaces.

 

Ultimately, my practice reflects on the permeability of the boundary between life and death. What we deem lifeless often still holds the memory and essence of what once was. My work embraces this inevitable transformation, exploring how objects and beings, even in death, carry with them the traces of their past existence. My ceramic series books, for example, address the erosion of knowledge—carefully preserved wisdom from our ancestors, now often replaced by the fleeting, superficial information that surrounds us. Through this, I aim to illuminate the slow disappearance of that which once held great significance.