Dust is never singular .•* it gathers quietly and insistently, carrying traces of human and more-than-human worlds across bodies, landscapes, and time. It moves across visible and invisible boundaries, geological, political, and intimate. What does it hold, where does it come from, and how does it shape the conditions of life and contamination alike?
Through shared gestures of noticing and handling, a year ago dust became a way for me to think about extraction, exposure, and interconnectedness. Small particles of soil, skin, minerals, and debris revealed themselves as carriers of memory and relation, unsettling distinctions between life and death, presence and absence~
Nearly a year later, these traces resurfaced through a collaborative process with Steffie de Gaetano, unfolding into a collective zine, a reading group, and a performative spatial text. Words, like dust, circulate, settling, lifting, and forming again .•*
What lingers is not a fixed outcome but a shared sensitivity to the unnoticed, the dispersed, and the fragile ways we hold stories together ꩜
.
Thank you to the organizers and curators of “This Holds Debris Together” for the invitation.
Thank you to all participants for your time, curiosity, and presence.
We came together at the Begijnhof, UHasselt, Faculty of Architecture, March 5, 2026.
A special thank you to Steffie de Gaetano, Kseniia Obukhova, Josymar Alfonzo Rodriguez, Weronika Kozak, and Louise Mazet. And my other spring school companions who joined ♡
Photos by
@whosaidxe @w.ko_zak
last two slides are from my contribution to the collective zine
♡
@steffiedegaetano @josymarcita @loui_zet @mervebekkktas @becaboca @julianarestrepog @elizabethgallondroste @inesns