Found on the parking lot of the swimming pool in my hometown, discarded black rubber becomes a language of movement, transition and passage.

Cut, shaped and placed on white canvas, it forms roads, crossings and traces — paths taken, paths abandoned, paths still waiting to be followed. The works speak of the rites of passage that shape a life: growing, changing, leaving, arriving and moving on.

I find discarded materials, collect them and give them a new purpose. What once belonged to the everyday becomes a visual meditation on the journey — on where we come from, where we are going, and everything that passes between the two.