As a child, I remember standing in front of the mirror and looking into my own eyes until the world around me tilted. The harder I tried to understand my own being, the more I was pushed out of my body, and the further away I felt from an answer. My reflection became an alien, and I was thrown into limbo until my body suddenly sucked me back in.
This body of work is a raw inquiry into the phenomenon of consciousness, and negotiation between inside and outside, macrocosm and microcosm: a confrontation without the possibility of a result. Here I take an emotional and philosophical approach to visually explore what science is not able to explain. I am a child again, gathering stones from the river; I compile shards of places I find, making an associative collection, and rearrange them to a new, fictional space.

Within this work, the image becomes a substitute for the emerging consciousness, and the camera turns into a womb, repeating and expanding the maternal touch. By projecting an immaterial inside onto a corporeal exterior, the shared reality is altered through the lens: The flash of the camera makes an unseen inner space visible for a short second and creates a door between the worlds, which simultaneously becomes a body. A passage is opened for a moment, leading through skin and surface, into the beyond.