2024
packaging material used for a period of time as my inventory, picked up from the school’s trash.
there is no adress, nothing inside anymore to give it purpose. temporary objects without a goal, sometimes functional sometimes romanticised sometimes just rational impulsive happenings.a performative act of undefinition, constant change and change of perspective is documented as part of the process.
i’m trying to reach something. there is no goal inside.
in a way, this is self-therapy with trash - but nothing remains. everything is going back to it’s origin.
performance, experimanetal diary reading