There is something compelling about the quiet presence of objects left behind, misplaced, or forgotten.  They remind me that human presence lingers, even in absence, and that we leave imprints on the world in ways we rarely notice.  I choose to collect these moments not as an archivist, but as someone searching for meaning in the remnants of time. 

My work is an introspection on loss and feeling misplaced—the way time folds into objects, the way absence speaks louder than presence, the way the landscape absorbs the residue of our being.