Each story is at once a fragment and a whole; a whole within a whole.
And the same story has always been changing, for things which do not
shift and grow cannot continue to circulate.

— Trinh T. Minh Ha, Grandma’s Story

My work dwells within a space of becoming, a realm of continuous change where notions of fixed authenticity dissolve. This space is an imagined home, or rather a once home, inspired by family photographs and archived images of the Dutch East Indies. Armatures of furniture imply the domestic interior of a house; the frame of a window delineating an invisible perimeter. These fragmented structures are like ghosts or impressions of what came before. Drawings of familial photographs reveal the faces of those whose accumulating histories fill this space. Its rooms, having been abandoned for some time, are now awakening from a dormancy. Tracing its way through all things is an invisible force made visible as an enigmatic coiling form. Bone white and overgrown, it wraps around everything in the house like a network that provides direction but no destination. With no fixed origin it is an untethered root. All becomes chimeral, overtaken and at the same time supported by this archaic force. Altering its surroundings, it lets in what is wild, unkempt and ever-changing. In this house, where time is collapsed, the unknown is not only embraced but enshrined.