When I was younger, I used to dream about the trees around the pond, the ride to school, and my little brother falling off the bicycle, breaking his hand. The road was surrounded by low bushes, boxwood to be more precise. I remember him trying to touch the bushes with his feet as he was on the back of my mother's bicycle. His foot got caught in the branches and he fell off a bicycle.
Using found objects or rather tracks of interaction is a starting point in my practice. These documents of interaction are situated in textiles, plaster, tin, wood, and images. Textures that are rather familiar to my childhood. All of our memories are fragmented. We don’t truly recall the full experience of these moments but we link each fragment to another fragment to create a cohering memory.
It’s only after critically looking at our full memories and noticing these (often visual) fragments that we’re able to truly look at the fragments by themselves. Each work explores a different memory, but when formed a whole depicts the sense of growing up. Memories of a leakage, painting the house white, and a rabbit that died.