Each piece, with its texture, color, and memory, shapes a sensitive cartography made of remnants and transformed residues. The work is born from an intimate, material question: what to do with all these pieces? The answer: turn them into landscape.

In a gesture of gathering and recomposition, Landscape explores the way we inhabit our fragments, especially those left behind by grief, loss, and pain. Just as plant waste can become color, what once seemed broken or residual can find new forms of existence. The piece invites us to recognize the fragments that make us up and to see them not as waste, but as part of a territory in constant transformation.

The process of creating these landscapes is also a bodily, performative act. The composition doesn't respond only to a rational decision but to feeling: it is the body that guides where to move, join, or recompose each fragment, searching for what intuitively finds its place. The result emerges from that dialogue between body and matter, and from the sustained attention they offer one another.

Every wound holds a story, a piece of memory. In that sense, recomposing these landscapes is also a practice of care. Just as each fragment is observed, touched, and repositioned within the piece, wounds require presence, listening, and time in order to transform. Landscape proposes a reflection on regeneration — on the possibility that what once seemed broken can become living territory again.