I come to an empty, quiet, white room or area. Seeing dappled shadows on the walls, I look for a light source and discover the source of the shadows, which are made of several metal crochet works. They are hung in the middle of the space, high and low. They are empty and impermanent, they are in constant change. Are they an entity? As if they were, and as if they were not. I move between the shadows and works of emptiness, that seem to reflect illusion and reality, which speak of the relationship between existence and non-existence. I can see the microscopic state of the seeds and see them in all their complexity and beauty. I can see the state of a fallen leaf, it is a static installation but it tells the story of a fallen leaf. A leaf being returned to the soil, where it came from.
Going further seems to bring me to another area of the work, a place where the hanging takes on the form of a Mobius ring as if to tell the story of how everything is in a cycle. I see it, the cycle of life, the cycle of objects, the process of becoming to dwelling to bad to empty.
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