Some traces aren’t visible — they linger in the air.

For this work, I used a scarf I found in a local thrift shop. It’s thin, almost translucent, and still carried a faint scent of perfume while I was working. The smell stayed with me — a quiet presence, hinting at closeness, memory, someone who’s no longer there.

A midsummer night’s dream isn’t quiet or cold. It’s warm, full of images, impressions, scents and fragments. It doesn’t make sense, but it stays with you.
In this collage of found textiles, prints and thread, the fragments don’t follow logic — they follow intuition, like memories attaching themselves without order or explanation.

This piece is about what we hold on to without knowing — and how even a scarf can carry a whole story.