To me, glass represents fragility, brittleness, vulnerability. But at the same time, glass can also offer a solid shelter, a form of protection. Yet the type of protection that glass offers is unlike any other: it’s invisible. This invisible shield can also divide, distort, and mislead.
This work started as straightforward, simple reflections of my ordinary summer and fall days, which inevitably caught my eye because of their natural force and beauty. Reflections just kept appearing to me in a time of loneliness and isolation, a time when the daily monotony allowed for no surprises, as I memorized the exact textures and lighting of every corner of my house. These reflections mixed and blended what lies ahead and what I couldn’t see. They cracked me loose from my limitations and shed light on a whole new world around me.
As I performed my daily walks, the glass became an extension of not only the environment I found myself in, but of myself as well. What’s curious about glass is that it reveals a different reality depending on where you stand, and two people will never see the same exact perspective.
Squinting helped somewhat, yet that didn’t keep the options from tumbling into each other. Flatness is nowhere to be found; nothing is fused or connected. The first image left me short of breath, a vision unprecedented to my ordinary eye.
Reflections fall into glass without logic, and they invalidate any rational thought or pattern.