ceramic spray cans

Once, spray cans overflowing with colors now carry another burden. No sound is left inside them, no pressure, no movement; but memory remains. In my hands, I am reconstructing a worn-out, decayed object that was exhausted on the streets, using ceramics. I am looking anew at the things deemed worthless after being used.

 

This is not merely the story of an object. The traces of a state of being that has been marginalized, diminished piece by piece, and forced into silence stand right here. What was lost was not lost one by one; it was all lost together. The eyes that looked upon this were closed, the words spoken were silenced, and those who objected were pushed back.

 

Now, I look at what is left behind. A warped, hollowed-out form. Yet, it is still standing. It is still here. The marks on the surfaces are not just visuals; they are the leakage of what has been suppressed. These works do not tell the story of the spray cans, but of what remains.