Synapse (ongoing)

When I was six years old, my parents got divorced. Through eyes fogged with childish imagination, I found sanctuary in a small patch of forest. This became an alternate dimension I would visit throughout my childhood—a place to make sense of broken fragments and tainted memories.

Decades later, as wider society grapples with its own deep complexities and divisions, I return to that same landscape. Synapse, operates on the realisation that when the external world fractures, our reality must be reconstructed from within.

In search of chaos and an understanding of how mistakes manifest, I physically cut photographic negatives into pieces and glue them back together with aching hands and tired eyes, as plastic shards of tree branches offer glimpses into the past. Each cut implies another. Although the glue fixes a fragment in place, the image has been transformed from something which existed for a split second into something that has been physically distorted for hours on end.

A single inverted piece creates an uncontrollable ripple throughout the entire composition - like a stone breaking the surface of a still mirrored lake, or an electrical current surging from fingertips to the brain.

Ultimately, Synapse serves as a visual meditation on destruction, psychological preservation, and forgiven mistakes.