In my work, I explore how time and memory take shape through thread. Weaving and embroidery are slow, physical processes in which the act of making remains visible.

At the heart of my practice is the idea of being “close from a distance”—the way a landscape or a lost loved one can still feel present through the things we make. I am fascinated by the paradox that the further something moves away in time, the closer it can feel emotionally. In the quiet of my atelier, these memories often feel even closer than they did when I was actually in that place or with that person.

Over time, details fade, yet feelings can grow stronger. My work explores what time does to our memories. I seek to capture the beauty of what once was through a form of contemporary nostalgia, offering a quiet way to find comfort in what is no longer physically present.

I am drawn to materials that carry a history, such as silk ribbons, antique embroidered tablecloths, and hand-dyed wool. By layering threads or leaving open spaces, I explore new forms of handwork. I often play with shifting perspectives, reflecting how the same memory can take on different shapes in different people's minds. What we remember is never quite the same as what someone else carries with them.

In a world that grows increasingly fast and loud, I consciously choose to slow down. I find fulfillment in a humble approach to making. Creating feels instinctive to me, something I simply need to do. It comes from working with care, curiosity, and a deep connection to the generations of women who worked with thread before me.

Through thread, I give form to what remains when time has taken the rest.