My practice explores power relations as an internal conflict—within a body, a figure, or a structure that is shaken by different forces. I imagine this conflict manifesting as a form of self-attack, an autoimmune-machine producing a chain of breakdown and consolidation, self-mutation, self-mutilation.

In my graduation work this machine unfolds as a slow-moving procession—crawling from one side of the room to the other, stretching the distance and duration between the two points. It incorporates ceramic body fragments and connectors made from both soft and rigid materials, creating nuanced dynamics among the parts.

Small skin-vehicles, like ants, dragging behind them fragmented figures—each pulling the next, exerting tension on one another. The structure appears like a super-organism: a recurring, multiplied figure that is both homogeneous and heterogeneous, acting at once as a self-army and as a body constantly on the verge of collapse. It does not determine whether it is a convoy or a parade, whether it desires to arrive—or whether it is merely slowing down that very possibility.

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