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12 years old dust in my studio, erased through stencils / letters.

Dust is everything and nothing at the same time. Recollecting events and interactions, particles float through space, accumulating memories into neglected corners. This way our cells merge with plants, animals and minerals, creating chaotic mixtures of undefined proportions. Dust carries the memory of its origin like a code, which remains embedded and mixed into dirt. In some way, dust is a memory that covers the entire Earth, reminding us on meaning of time. Each particle belonged to someone or something and it will again become a property of someone or something. This way, every speckle becomes used and reused for eternity.

Dust is alive. It breathes throughout winds, gets sick and spreads diseases. Tickling smells wake our senses and fine powders erode surfaces. Dust is time that slowly and patiently measures hours and days.

Dust is to be worshipped, like all memories.

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