Path

A mannequin, fabric, wire, paint

A female mannequin, wrapped like a mummy, is half buried in the dirt alongside a tree, unrelated words are written on it. The trees around have large wings, ghost-like drawings and writings. Life is a circular space, everything starts where it ends and nothing dies. Our bodies dissolve through the earth, our thoughts and memories seep through so trees grow. How many words, emotions and ideas do you share with others from different places and times? How many incidents of déjà vu? I believe that a woman is like a tree giving life; paper is made of plants, paper that documents our thoughts, emotions and memories.

So that features do not dissolve

CDs and photographs

The project is a collection of the participants’’ photographs, I asked them to record the first ten words they think of as well as answer the question: How do you describe yoursefl?

I recall the past -not to reopen wounds- but so memory and experience do not go to waste. We meet people and remember faces and incidents, however, our memory fails to maintain it all. Maybe this is why we take photographs in a desperate attempt to save the features. The means to keeping persons to memory may differ but we prefer to transform our emotions and memories to digits which we keep in a different memory. A digital memory that will not bend under this weight and will not tire of recalling.