The works are infused by my previous research and responding to a text by Byung-Chul Han from The Scent of Time: “Dyschronicity lets time whizz, so to speak. The feeling that life is accelerating is really the experience of time that is whizzing without a direction.”

The earth pulls us down to ground us. Grounding means slowing down and observing, becoming conscious of our surroundings, and absorbing and processing. A yearning that lingers in the shadows of scattered minds.

The metamorphosis of hair has been a ritual within my practice. My mother once told me: “Take your fallen hair and bury it in the soil of your house plant. They will nourish it.” The poetry of the gesture stayed with me and made me think of the ways in which our bodies return to the earth to nurture it. Could grounding ourselves be another manifestation of that return, a way to access nurturing?

​I ground myself in the process of making work, constantly deconstructing and reconstructing elements of the material and concept. I often develop a visual vocabulary to engage the audience only to unlearn it to find a new language. I seek meaning within the medium. I ground myself, here, in the process.

View More