‘Side by side along the gallery wall—like filmstrip, like vertebrae, like architectural blueprints softened by flood—each work is a fragment of tension. The wax objects do not perform narrative; they suggest memory’s outer crust, holding the impressions of vanished interiors: a door that forgot where it led, a ribcage where the map once was. They are devotional and forensic. Their stillness is charged.

Time slows here. The palette—vegetal greens, antiseptic pinks, rusted violets—hints at
preservation gone wrong. A false embalming. Objects not saved, but paused. Each surface resists final form: maps rupture, windows collapse inward, and even the most figurative scenes seem scraped away mid-sentence.’

The exhibition is accompanied by a text from the artist.

---