Artist Statement

I have always been drawn to the unknowable — to what exists at the edge of the visible, the elusive, and the still unnamed. I approach this state through water: its surface, reflections, the shifting light, the sense of weightlessness. Water becomes for me not just an image, but a medium in which perception begins to shift.

My visual language is built on the interval between dream and wakefulness, clarity and displacement, presence and disappearance. I am interested in those moments when an image remains recognizable, yet begins to lose its stability. In this trembling, transitional state, there is a possibility of seeing the familiar differently.

One of the core principles of my practice is duality. I construct my works through reflections, divergences, diptychs, and mirrored relationships between images. It is important to me that one image does not close off the other, but exists beside it in a state of tension.

Color helps me hold this condition. Toning and RGB lighting create a threshold between dream and reality, the bodily and the spectral. Shifted tones, subtle disharmony, and contrast bring everyday reality into a zone of instability.

In video, I often use a three-stage transition: first the image holds its form, then it falls apart, and then it emerges again — in a different mode of perception. Vertical blur and linear displacement, reflections, and the slowed rhythm of the frame allow me to work not with the event itself, but with the transition as such. In this way, time begins to feel like an unstable, fluid form, and the image as a medium of perception that opens itself anew.

I am drawn to mixed media — collage, diary notes, fragments of text. They allow me to bring the image into contact with a more intimate, fragile layer of experience. For me, diaristic practice is not a form of self-narration, but a way of preserving the trace of inner movement. From these fragments emerges an interest in emptiness — not as absence, but as a space where form has not yet been fixed and is therefore especially vulnerable.

I understand emptiness as a positive element that reveals the very process of perception. In this space, the “I” smears, dissolves, and gathers again — no longer as a fixed point, but as a process. To be human means to dwell in becoming: to pass from one state into another and to find wholeness in accepting uncertainty.