“In the beginning, there was nothing. Yet from nothing, everything was born.”

My practice grows from that primordial silence — the moment before existence stirs. The eggshell, a fragile boundary between life and the unknown, becomes both my material and my metaphor. What the world sees as something easily broken, I treat as a seed of strength, a remnant of emergence.

Piece by piece, I bind fragmented shells with my hands, allowing the material to decide its shape and rhythm. Through accumulation, pressure, and repetition, scattered remains turn into a unified surface — a quiet architecture built from patience. This meditative construction mirrors the way beings come into form: slowly, through invisible labor, through countless small decisions that shape a life.

The eggshell’s dual nature — delicate yet enduring — reflects the paradox at the heart of existence. As fragments interlock, they reveal that resilience often arises from vulnerability itself. Ultimately, my work becomes not just an image but a record of becoming — a tactile tribute to creation, memory, and the profound weight carried by even the smallest beginnings.