I have many small things in my studio. Found, bought, gifted, collected, or created. They inhabit drawers, boxes, and walls. They accompany me. I pay attention to them. For each one, I feel a kind of need for benevolence that feels like care. Imprints form, like inspired memories surfacing. Without truly being aware of it, I am fascinated by their humility, their unimportance. This affection binds us, and creative ideas are born. It is both vague and precious.
I invent a wordless language from their shape, their color, their texture. By observing, uniting, manipulating, and poetizing them, a creative project develops. Metal wires become fences, barbed wire becomes cages. Hair becomes souvenirs, memory, intimate stories. A twist of wire and hair could take the shape of a house. The house is an enclosure. A house is created, faint like the one from my childhood—the one a child draws—and fragile like the one I inhabit. A hair-house, a red-thread hair-house, a red-thread hair-house that holds a word. A house that inhabits the word "is" (Est).
A work titled "Est" was realized.
A project appears: the CONSTELLATIONS series.