Is it still, 2025
Honey, Glass, Metal, robber, Coconut Oil, 1.5m x 2m x 4m
This work is grounded in a personal theory the Ultra Slow Accident — a form of emotional breakdown that unfolds not through sudden trauma, but through slow, almost invisible change over time.
The sculpture features a series of handblown glass vessels arranged in a form reminiscent of a body or vascular system. Each vessel contains honey in a different state — liquid, darkened, crystallised — along with one containing coconut oil, a material that shifts in response to temperature but carries no sweetness. These materials reflect how emotions persist, adapt, or harden under pressure.
The piece reflects on how emotional experiences become sealed within different stages of life — early love, family expectations, social roles — often remaining unprocessed but ever-present. Over time, these stages accumulate inside us like deposits: still present, but no longer in motion.By combining bodily structure with material transformation, the work invites viewers to consider how emotional residues are shaped by time, structure, and the ways we carry unresolved states forward — long after they’ve changed.
Viscosity of Air ( Moving image Part I ), 2025
Honey, Microscope
While studying the properties of honey, I observed the viscosity value as a significant parameter. Extending this concept, I realized that many phenomena in our world possess viscosity that is difficult to visualize, including human beings themselves. Setting aside the question of whether we can be classified as fluids, can the relationship between individuals and their environment be expressed through the concept of viscosity? Furthermore, what implications arise when individuals and collectives exhibit different viscosity values?
This video presents experimental microscopic imagery of honey in various states: diluted, normal, partially crystallized, and fully crystallized. Air bubbles are visible within the honey, accompanied by electrical currents, buzzing sounds, and labored breathing. These stagnant, viscous sounds, generated by air vibrations, demonstrate how air viscosity can be altered by environmental conditions.
Thé Dansant ( Moving image Part I ), 2023
Tea, water, arclyc, magnet, motor, temperature sensation
The centerpiece of this project is a device containing tea leaves in water. As an audience member approaches, the tea leaves begin to spiral upwards in the water, creating a visually captivating dance. However, once the audience member departs, the tea leaves gradually descend and settle at the bottom of the container.This phenomenon is a metaphorical representation of the "spiral of silence" theory in communication studies. This theory posits that individuals have a fear of isolation, which leads them to remain silent when they feel that their views are in opposition to the majority opinion. This process also expresses that the real opinion leaders are often observers outside the frame.
Furthermore, the tea leaves' journey from lifelessness to vibrancy with the flow of water echoes the natural order inherent in nature, a beauty that exists without conscious intent. This aspect of the project encourages the audience to explore their own interpretations and imagine various possibilities.
If We Fall, We Fall Inwards II, 2025
Clay, glaze, jelly wax, wood, steel
35 × 32 × 35 cm
This work is a continuation of If We Fall, We Fall Inwards, expanding its exploration of queer care and precarious kinship structures (Honey between the finger). Here, the honey is reimagined as a decaying, mucosal substance, transforming preservation into rot. The porous ceramic forms, suspended and oozing green jelly wax, evoke a speculative biology of intimacy: where care congeals, touch corrodes, and systems meant to hold us slowly collapse.
So honoured to share this space with so many talented artists! Also super grateful to amazing and supportive staffs who helped me install countless times! 🥹🥲😂 #ArtEvol2025 @saatchi_gallery@londonartcollective_official
The show is still on from 12-19 Sep 2025 and I’ll be there in person on 19th🥳🥳see you soon!
Feeling lucky to have been part of group show— 𝘀𝗶𝘁𝗻𝗮𝗹𝘁𝗔: 𝗖𝗵𝗶𝗺𝗲𝗿𝗮 𝗶𝗻 𝗮 𝗩𝗮𝘁 @sitnalta_2702 ! Huge thanks to the amazing curators @serena_xrgao@archimbaldi666 , the artists I got to share the space with, and all the friends who came all the way to see the show 🍯 🐝
If We Fall, We Fall Inwards I, 2025
Clay, glaze, jelly wax, wood, bronze
25 × 15 × 35 cm
This works begins with the sensation of honey on the fingertips—a gesture both intimate and elusive. The fingertip, peripheral yet deeply sensitive, becomes a quiet stand-in for queer modes of touch and connection, where closeness resists clarity and desire lingers in residue.
Inspired by queer proposals of co-parenting—structures that redistribute care across non-hierarchical, chosen families—the sculpture’s triadic form gestures toward a reimagined architecture of kinship: precarious, negotiated, and intimately entangled.
Formally, the work consists of three uneven legs, slightly tilted and leaning into each other—an intentionally unbalanced structure that physically embodies asymmetry, reliance, and quiet instability. It resists equilibrium in favor of vulnerability, reflecting the shifting emotional landscapes of queer caregiving.
Honey flows across the surface—golden, slow, persistent—a substance that connects but also overwhelms, blurring the line between sweetness and burden. Its material presence becomes a metaphor for both preservation and entrapment, reflecting the dualities within queer kinship systems.
A dead wasp lies embedded in the work, fossilized within the syrupy glaze. It marks the quiet cost of care, burnout within chosen families, and the precarity of structures never meant to hold us.
As part of an ongoing “Honey Series,” this piece attempts to preserve life’s golden-hour moments—the soft, uncertain, and often unspoken spaces where queer intimacy quietly thrives.
If We Fall, We Fall Inwards III, 2025
Soft pastel, slime (PVA glue, water, borax, powdered pigment), oil pastel, gelatin, honey, glicerine, paper
59 x 84 cm
This painting begins with honey at the fingertips—an intimate, lingering gesture extended onto the surface. The composition explores balance, tension, and quiet interconnection through layered marks and fluid materials.
As the third piece in the ongoing Honey Series, this work serves as a visual entry point to the themes of the series—preserving moments of stillness, emotional resonance, and the slow movement of care across time.
Group show MOMENTUS now open at Galleria Objets.
Honored to show two pieces in this space — huge thanks to the curator for the thoughtful input on the presentation, which subtly bridged the works into a quiet conversation.
Crumb Archive, 2025
Jelly wax, Honey, Single-channel video 5’00”
Full video: /1097171047
The idea began with a question inspired by the concept of resurrection in artificial intelligence: If we possess a person’s genetic sequence and a complete archive of their memories, could we truly reconstruct them? Genes can be copied. But memory remains elusive—abstract, fluid, and resistant to full technological capture. So the question shifted: Do we truly want to preserve memory at all?
In the video, a person who has inherited memory sits alone at a table, slowly consuming pieces of ”memory bread.“ At the same time, the voiceover—belonging to the original owner of the memory—narrates their internal hesitation at the very moment of transmission: Which memories are worth passing on? Moments of glory, mundane fragments, hatred, experience, or long-held secrets? The film plays entirely in reverse, serving as a metaphor: the inheritance never takes place. In the end, the subject chooses not to go through with it—not to pass anything on. A small but deliberate visual detail—a jar of honey—serves as a hidden symbol of how memory is often sweetened, softened, or beautified in the process of being preserved.
Through this work, I invite viewers to ask: Is memory truly personal? And does every individual memory deserve to be independently archived? As Nikolas Rose writes in Governing the Soul:”The soul is the surface on which power is inscribed.“ In this sense, memory becomes a vessel for internalized order—an extension of power rather than a pure recollection. It is shaped, selected, and regulated by the structures we live within. Are we meant to pass down these inherited orders, generation after generation? Or should we consciously leave behind some blank spaces that allow the next generation to redefine the self and the world a new? Ultimately, this work asks a broader question: Do we dare to reexamine the memories we’ve inherited—especially those that have been concealed, or perhaps never truly existed at all?
Condemn to Be Free, 2025
Crank clay with glaze
30 × 30 × 40 cm
My research centers on what I term the “ultra-slow aesthetic”—not merely objects that evolve slowly, but states in which change accrues imperceptibly over a prolonged period yet erupts in an instant. I call these phenomena “ultra-slow accidents.” While the moment of a slice of bread catching fire appears abrupt, its occurrence is in fact the culmination of long-term factors—habitual routines, ambient humidity, toaster maintenance—built up over weeks or months rather than minutes.
Condemn to Be Free translates the ultra-slow accident into material form through four inclined components—two heavy and rigid, two light and flexible—crafted in Crank clay and glazed. Each piece measures 30 × 30 × 40 cm and is arranged to sustain a precarious, metastable equilibrium. Over time, invisible stresses accumulate: the heavier elements exert a slow downward pull; the pliant ones subtly deform; adhesive bonds quietly weaken beneath the glaze. When these latent forces breach a critical threshold, the assembly collapses in a sudden shift, revealing the hidden chronology of everyday failures.
The temporal dynamics of ultra-slow accidents correspond directly to Sartre’s concept of existential anxiety (angoisse). Just as the sculpture’s hidden tensions accrue over time before erupting in a moment of structural failure, Sartrean anguish arises from an ongoing awareness of nothingness (néant) and the boundless contingency of freedom. In both cases, habitual perception obscures the gradual buildup of pressure until a singular event provokes a vertiginous confrontation with responsibility. By externalizing the mechanics of material collapse, Condemn to Be Free stages the precise instant we recognize the abyss beneath our choices and the full weight of our freedom.
Coparenting,2025
1.5m x 1.5m x 1m
umbrellas, adhesive tape, plastic wrap
This piece is composed of several broken umbrellas, their frames exposed and interwoven, connecting with each other but unable to uphold their original protective form. The upright main structure stands like a witness holding a pose, while the surrounding umbrella frames resemble a fragmented network—no longer closed, no longer whole, yet still pulling at each other.
I use the "umbrella" as a metaphor for systems. When it functions properly, the umbrella is a protective structure; however, when it is torn apart, splayed open, and exposed, it also reveals the singularity, fragility, and even the oppressive nature behind that protection.
This is a reflection on the "care structure." It is no longer upheld by a singular authority, but presents a failed collective attempt—similar to the contemporary societal imagination of shared parenting. When parental roles are no longer a binary of two genders, power begins to flow, distribute, and be negotiated across multiple dimensions.
The work is concerned with the failed vision of "shared shelter." When the structure originally meant to protect falls apart, do we have the ability to collectively uphold new possibilities? Or are we doomed to face a continuous cycle of collapse and reconstruction?