There is something green,There is something membrane,Something holds—soft, yet certain.It breathes,It rests,It hums..In this space, green and membrane meet.Something pulses.This... Read More
There is something green,
There is something membrane,
Something holds—soft, yet certain.
It breathes,
It rests,
It hums..
In this space, green and membrane meet.
Something pulses.
This installation was made just before I moved out of my apartment, as a way to hold onto that fleeting, familiar space. I had been saving used dryer sheets after each load of laundry—an everyday habit that slowly became a quiet ritual. Soft, translucent, and touched by the body, these sheets carry traces of scent and warmth. In the space, they are layered and suspended to form a kind of membrane—light, permeable, and gently alive. I’ve always been drawn to domestic spaces for their intimacy and rhythm, and through this work, I hope to share that sense of presence—where something lingers, holds, and gently breathes.