About the work

Sometimes, the smallest disturbances contain the largest truths. A dropped pen, a misplaced file, the almost imperceptible tremor of fluorescent light failing in a distant corner. These are not events, not really, but rather a slow, internal erosion, the silent unraveling of what was supposed to hold. It’s a kind of entropy specific to the controlled environment, a ripple spreading outward from a single, impossible point. And the scale of the ripple matters less than its unexpected origin. There are things that simply shouldn’t be where they are, things that defy the very logic of their placement, and the quiet indignation of those who witness it is often the most telling part. Something has come undone.