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"Rooted", (from the series Mother Tongue), 2025. Diptych, processed digital photograph, 60 × 30 cm
"Rooted", (from the series Mother Tongue), 2025. Diptych, processed digital photograph, 60 × 30 cm
"Rooted"
(from the series Mother Tongue), 2025. Diptych, processed digital photograph, 60 × 30 cm
"…human memory sealed within the body of wood…"
In this work I explore the dialogue between two trees two bodies through two opposing perspectives, a gaze from above and a gaze from below.
In the right image I look downward at the stump of a freshly cut tree. The outlines of the rings, the fibers, and the dark stain at the center form an image resembling an eye an open pupil—like a human memory sealed within the body of wood. In this gaze I encounter an eye that remembers without judgment, an inner testimony of a life abruptly cut short.
In the left image the gaze turns upward, from within the dark interior of an abandoned house, through an opening in its roof. A tree, in its growth, has broken through toward the light. The branches push through the stone frame like the movement of a body compelled to be born anew.
I weave these images as two moments in time and space—cutting versus growth, ending versus becoming—both pointing to the body as a bearer of temporal traces.
In this work I investigate the dialogue between two trees—two bodies—through two opposing perspectives: a gaze from above and a gaze from below.
In the right panel I look downward at the stump of a freshly cut tree. The concentric rings, the fibers, and the dark stain at its center form the image of an eye—an open pupil—like a human memory sealed within the body of wood. In this gaze I encounter an eye that remembers without judgment, an inner testimony of a life abruptly ended.
In the left panel the gaze turns upward, from within the dark interior of an abandoned house, through an opening in its roof. A tree has broken through in its growth, seeking the light. The branches push through the stone frame like the movement of a body compelled to be born anew.
Together these images intertwine as two moments in time and space—cutting versus growth, ending versus becoming—both pointing to the body as a bearer of temporal traces.
In this work I explore the dialogue between two trees two bodies through two opposing perspectives, a gaze from above and a gaze from below.
In the right image I look downward at the stump of a freshly cut tree. The outlines of the rings, the fibers, and the dark stain at the center form an image resembling an eye an open pupil—like a human memory sealed within the body of wood. In this gaze I encounter an eye that remembers without judgment, an inner testimony of a life abruptly cut short.
In the left image the gaze turns upward, from within the dark interior of an abandoned house, through an opening in its roof. A tree, in its growth, has broken through toward the light. The branches push through the stone frame like the movement of a body compelled to be born anew.
I weave these images as two moments in time and space—cutting versus growth, ending versus becoming—both pointing to the body as a bearer of temporal traces.