A Living Memory

This work treats memory as a highly living material rather than a reliable record. Memory is a changing, organic image, an image that stays active in our mind but vanishes within time. It is like mold. The more you remember the more it disappears. This mold grows quietly at first. It blossoms in the corners of a story, in the gaps between what was remembered and what was never allowed to be said. The more time passes, the larger and wider the void in a space of memory grows. The task of this series is to collect, to observe, analyse and archive what is left. The reason is the refusal to forget my own, so I built a small intimate museology where I preserve my family’s traces.

This work is a collection of abandoned materials, often embodying violence and pain where I see myself. They seem casual but they build the fundament of my family as a contradiction and refusal to be hurt.

My body becomes a political tool, retelling the stories of those who cannot speak.