My desire to work with boxes comes through observing trash in the city of Amsterdam as potential building material for temporary structures. I was intrigued by the journey the box had made. I imagined the boxes had travelled across the ocean and I imagined how it would be to contain the ocean inside of it to reverse the relationship they had with each other.

Before I came into making I was thinking of an egg and a scissor. In between the open blades the egg could finally rest in unexpected comfort of delay duality. This piece is still a collage of feelings, a mystery and a love story.
I was performing with loose elements of the sculpture before arranging them together. I wanted the mirror to elevated my gaze mimicking praying; all of a sudden I was confronted with my own image in the here and now. The t- shirts are part of the aftermaths of the biblical universal flood I had been thinking of when working at a boat that commuted between Amsterdam and Zaandam. Back then, the boat gave me mind space, it was bizarre and ideally resembled the setting of the pirate stories my grandpa told me as a kid. There I felt grief, wonder and aimed to practice meditation, which was not very successful, I kept thinking and desiring. The whole making process was performativity and just now I start to unravel some of its puzzles.

Before I made this I kept thinking of two things: An egg resting between the blades of a scissor and the biblical story of Noah and the Ark

In my quest for materialising the ethereal I explore the perimeters of the physical and emotional body.

Silence

Going Home

For The Faithful

What unsettles me about thinking of animals with shells is that they seem borderline dangerous to approach because their fragility is constantly being reminded by the fact that they need a hard cast to survive. My relation to their body is a struggle because I see myself as the hypothetical perpetuator of violence while at the same time it reminds me of my own body being soft as well, single edged, naked, with no cast other than clothes. The encounter with hypothetical violence frightens me. It is a reminder that surfaces can be trespassed and that life is fragile.

Even though turtles repulse me, witnessing how they carry their homes with them is beautiful. Their soft bodies are protected and they can shrink to reside into their shell, silently. A turtle retreating inwardly into its own comfort reminisces my childhood temporary shelters. I always had a thing for hiding; under the blankets, under the table, in-between clothes in a closet. I was an architect building a domestic wildlife with furniture and textiles. Up till now, I am still looking for little secrets, play and intimacy in my surroundings that give me a sense of wonder and attentiveness for the present. But, shelters collapse when laundry has to be made and those who taught us how to play, age. Working with glass demands care and danger simultaneously.

At the same time I thought about the cardboard box as construction material in favelas as well as shelter for kids play, revealing different realities/fictions in the construction of social structures.

Both in concept and materialisation, the piece explores the theme of fragility and the futile attempts to fixate life.

I Built a Temple

I suspected that the reason you fell ill was because there was something trapped inside you. There was something utterly unspoken and yet I felt it.

When You Are Gone

(Installation made out of Glass, Wax, Wood, and Textile)
2020

(Sculpture made out of Glass, Carton Box, matches, wood)
2020

(Sculpture made out of wood, shirts and mirror)
2020

(Sculpture made out of water , glass and wax flute)
2019

(Sculpture made out of a branch and a mahogany pole.
The Mahogany pole held the celling and ground together ,
the branch offered a spoonful of water)
2020

(Sculpture made out of wood, rope, epoxy,t-shirts from love ones, and a plant that never dies )
2019

Setting foot here, we find ourselves at 52° 22' 18.5052'' N , 4° 53' 45.7044'' E where daylight becomes scarce. The sunset dictates two momentums in the exhibition. I invited my guests to come over right before 17:00pm when daylight mingles with the artificial orange light bulbs and the walls become fluffy peach. The passage of time becomes palpable on the surfaces of the semi transparent objects. Light becomes a protagonist; it gives me the feeling of churches flickering grim.

(Untitled - Paper Collage Series)
2019

13 May 2019 we all gathered for Edgar. Someone said he was delayed. The microphones were on, we were there for him and we were enough people for him to show up. Our voices echoed.

Edgar
(Microphones on, Mop, soap)