BIO
Statement
Work
On April 24, 2026, I decided to demolish my childhood home and turn it into my studio. I asked my aunt to call me when the workers arrived, as there were some things I wanted to keep. She said: "Tell me what, I'll keep them for you." I said: "I don't know, I'll come and see." Early the next morning she called to tell me the workers had already started. I got there within half an hour and began picking through what they were breaking down: wall fragments with water stains, cabinets with rusted screws, broken glass. By the end, the workers threw away half and I picked up the other half, enough to fill about half the living room. My aunt laughed and said, "You've picked up so much, what's the use?"
I didn't know. I just felt they were carrying a lot. Too much to let disappear. I wanted to bring them back — back to the same place, but a place that was no longer the same.
The only pity is my door, I arrived a step too late. But I saved the door frame.