Approach

I work with posters collected from city streets. Layered over one another, torn, altered by rain, glue and time, they already carry a history when I remove them from the walls.

In the studio, I turn them over, fragment them and assemble them. Sometimes I draw on them. Yet one gesture runs through all this work: making the messages these posters were meant to carry disappear—the slogans, the words, even the imagery itself. On the reverse, the mirror-image printing naturally blurs those messages. On the front, I deliberately erase the writing, sometimes down to the very last letter, even if it means scraping the paper. In a world saturated with information, this erasure is intentional: it is my way of freeing the material from the excess of messages. What was communication becomes surface; what was information becomes landscape.

This work also shapes the way I look. I pause before things we have grown used to passing without seeing. I am not trying to recover a child's way of seeing; I am trying not to lose an adult's capacity to be moved by the smallest things. Things do not change because I look at them. I simply stop being indifferent to them.

For me, creating is not a choice. It is a way of being: a way to inhabit the world, to exist in it, sometimes to survive in it. It means staying true to who I am, even if that means living with very little. This is where I find a form of resistance: in refusing to betray myself. Because if I create, it is not to add objects to the world, but rather to give it my own color.