Sheets of encapsulated 10-year-old lace curtain taken from an abandoned shop in Poland become a conservation of memory. Trapped and ‘suffocated’ fabric put in specific order tell a story about time, distance, displacement and process.
The physical experience of the book in a significant part of the work. It is being able to feel the texture of the encapsulated lace and roughness of the uneven edges. This brings up an issue of blindness when the blind eyes are replaced by the experience of touch. For me, it’s a metaphor to being exposed to indifference and ignorance throughout years of unhappy life labeled as ‘paradise’, as seen from the outside.