This work examines how analytical frameworks can obscure rather than illuminate. Footage of the sea’s surface is overlaid with data driven visual analysis including colour segmentation, motion tracking, and compositional mapping until the original image becomes nearly unreadable. The beauty of the moving water is buried beneath layers of interpretation. In exposing this tension, the piece questions whether the pursuit of understanding becomes a form of erasure, where the sublime is lost to the need for control.
There is a quiet irony in standing beside the work, explaining its conceptual framework while the piece itself critiques the impulse to explain. In offering further insight, I participate in the very process the work resists—layering interpretation upon interpretation until the image risks disappearing entirely. This moment reflects the paradox at the heart of the project: the tension between the desire to share meaning and the cost of overarticulation. The act of explanation becomes both a gesture of generosity and an extension of the erasure.
My practice begins with a longing to find coherence in the noise and to dwell within complexity without reducing it. I move between states of belonging and exile, carrying with me the quiet grief of what has passed but still shapes me. The self, for me, is a site of soft instability — liminal, breathing, open to change. I seek frameworks that are porous, architectures that adapt rather than impose. In these in- between spaces, I locate a home shaped not by stasis but by the tenderness of becoming.
This photographic project documents the aftermath of my grandfather’s death on the evening of 29 March 2019. The work captures the process of sorting, packing, and dismantling his apartment in the days that followed. It reflects on the desire to objectify oneself in grief — to be packed alongside him, archived and carried away. The series is composed of images taken during the clearing of the space, focusing on the physical residues of a life and the quiet rituals of departure. It is not sentimental. It is procedural, present, and exact.