How does memory transmute as matteriality transforms?

I work with garments that once belonged to other people. I am interested in what remains after they have been worn: the marks left by time, repaired seams, worn areas, and the alterations that no fabric acquires on its own. Each material arrives carrying a history that I do not seek to reconstruct, but to set in motion. In dialogue with the practice of El Anatsui, these works understand recovered materials as carriers of previous histories. Transformation does not erase those traces; instead, it incorporates them as an essential part of the work, turning discarded matter into a space of memory and possibility.

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​​​​My practice begins when I cut these fragments apart and displace them from their original context. As I reassemble them, new relationships between forms, colours, and textures emerge—relationships that did not previously exist. The process is not about recovering a lost image, but about allowing matter to discover another possibility of becoming image.

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​​​After more than fifteen years working in the fashion industry and living in cities such as Shanghai, Paris, Madrid, and Chicago, I learned to see textiles as records of bodies, places, and everyday experience. This perspective runs throughout my practice, where painting, textile assemblage, and manual gesture converge within a single creative process.

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I do not work to preserve the past. I work because every transformation alters what once appeared stable, revealing that all matter retains the capacity to generate new forms of presence.