This project began with a collection of videos from my childhood. They show people who were central to my life and who are no longer here, or no longer present in the same way. I’m not trying to piece together an exact story. I return to these scenes to get close to something memory only holds onto halfway, as if I could still reach it.
But remembering isn’t the same as seeing clearly again. The images break, distort and lose focus. Glitch and broken noises make that uncertainty visible: a memory that falters, blurs with others and never quite stays still. Something is there, even if I can’t fully get it back.
That tension carries into the sound. At times, it cuts through sharply; at others, it sinks into lower tones. Image and sound follow the impossible impulse to hold on to what has already passed, to someone who won’t return in the same way. Because remembering is also this: holding, for a moment, what is slowly slipping away.
