ANIMA, 2024-ongoing

In the spring of 2025, my beloved took his own life. Nothing had prepared me for this death.

I used to believe that art was a universal remedy — for loneliness, illness, anxiety, for the darkness of winter. But real pain cannot be treated with metaphors. I don’t know how long it will take to gather new meaning. I only know that things will never be the same. Death rewrites reality — and now even the air tastes different.

This work is an attempt to speak to absence as if it were presence. To return to the idea that every letter — in the broadest sense — is always addressed, even if there will be no reply. It is like a letter that will never be read. But the act of writing it is already a form of connection.

I create a landscape where memory is unstable, yet resists disappearance. The aim is not to preserve the past, to fix it in place. Rather, it is an attempt to anchor the very possibility of the past in the present — its truthfulness. Like the light of a star that still reaches us long after the star itself has vanished.

What remains? Love, caught off guard by its own impossibility to continue. It remains as an echo in a room where two voices once spoke. To love means, one day, to learn to love what is absent.