This piece takes the form of fabric, hardened in resin, and held within a frame. At first glance, it appears accidental — a crumpled sheet, folded and discarded, as if it had been tossed aside without care. Yet the materiality denies that reading: what looks fragile and temporary is in fact rigid, preserved, and deliberate.
The folds create an impression of neglect, echoing the way we often treat images, ideas, or even art itself in a world that moves too quickly. By framing this hardened fabric, the work elevates what we would normally overlook — transforming waste into monument, ephemerality into permanence.
But beneath the folds lies a sharper reflection. Artworks today are often bought only to vanish — sealed in storage units, hidden from the human eye, their presence reduced to an entry in a ledger. Graphic design, meanwhile, circulates as image alone — temporary, disposable, a fleeting note in the endless scroll of culture. This work, frozen mid-gesture, becomes a comment on both: a reminder of how value is defined less by visibility than by possession, less by meaning than by speed.
The result is a paradox: an object that looks forgotten but is, in fact, unforgettable. A work that captures the uneasy space between fragility and endurance, absence and presence, memory and loss — and a note on a world that consumes images faster than it can ever truly see them.