



Rendered as a contact sheet of film stills, the work fractures the body into cropped gestures and anonymous silhouettes, letting absence speak as loudly as presence in the alternating fields of black and pale ground. The strict grid and sprocket-like borders impose a mechanical rhythm, yet within each frame tenderness and unease flicker—an arm extended, a head bowed, a torso turning—suggesting memory as something edited, reordered, and never fully complete. Light is reduced to stark contrast, turning domestic fragments into archetypes and making intimacy feel both observed and withheld, as if the viewer is riffling through evidence of a private narrative. In its repetition and interruption, the piece meditates on how time is archived: not as continuous life, but as a sequence of partial exposures where meaning happens between the frames.







