“Ridikulus” (2025.07)Resin, Metal, PVC, Arduino230cm x 175cm x 70cmAs a child, I used to have nightmares. But those dreams were often fueled by the scary stories my aunt would tell me-stories like, "If you don't go to sleep, a giant will come take you away," or "If you don't behave, a monster will eat you." Eventually, I began dreaming of those monsters: strange, mutated insect-like creatures with enormous tails and grotesque forms. Back then, I didn't question whether they were real or imagined. I simply buried the things I truly feared deep inside myself.
Years later, I found resonance in a scene from Harry Potter
—Professor Lupin's lesson about Boggarts, creatures that transform into your worst fears, and how the spell Ridikulus could turn them into something absurd and harmless. That moment stayed with me. I thought: what if we could look at our fears through a different lens, with softness or even humor? Maybe they would lose their power. Maybe they could even become a kind of joy.
That was the starting point for this piece. When the tail of this strange insect-like form began to move in my hands, I suddenly thought of the way my childhood pets-my cats and dogs-used to wag their tails. Though these are tender memories, they also carry loss: those beloved animals are no longer with me. By transforming these shapes, I wanted to turn fear and grief into a form of remembrance-a gentle monument to what once was, and a hopeful gesture toward what still could be beautiful.
The outer shell of the sculpture is made from soft TPU, reminiscent of skin or fur, but its core is supported by iron.
This contrast between softness and strength mirrors my own emotional structure: I may seem gentle on the outside, but there is a kind of quiet resilience within.
Through this work, I embrace the monsters of my past, not with resistance, but with tenderness.
"Blown, But Not Just Bubbles" - Wrinkled is OKAY! - (2025.06)Magic Goo, resin, steel, clothes, LED65cm x 140cm x 50cmEach bubble was blown by me, one by one. They're light, playful, and never the same-each shape forming by chance. The process itself feels a lot like emotion: unstable, unpredictable, but honest because of it.
For me, blowing bubbles is also a kind of emotional release. Sometimes you fill them with air and intention, then watch them take shape-like you're saying something without words. And if you don't like how it turns out, you can pop it. That sharp little burst can feel strangely satisfying. The wrinkled leftovers, the way they collapse, often feel more expressive than the bubble itself.
This piece stacks emotions in layers: iron at the base represents something fixed or grounding, resin in the middle holds things in transition, and the bubble wrap on top floats like a passing feeling—maybe it's love, maybe frustration, or something you don't have a name for. I don't think art always needs a clear meaning. Sometimes I just want to let things out, differently each time, like blowing a feeling into the air and seeing what it turns into.
Symbiont 1 (2023.08)Resin, Fabric180 x 80 x 80cmInspired by the diversity of living forms, I merge characteristics of animals and plants to imagine a new species—one that blurs the boundaries between the organic and the fantastical.
By layering cloth onto the surface, I evoke the coarse, tactile quality of vegetation, grounding the work in a sense of materiality and growth.
The use of soft pastel tones introduces a dreamlike contrast—an otherworldly vision of a luminous plant thriving in the desert, an illusion of life where it shouldn’t exist.
Symbiont 2 (2023.08)Resin, Fabric170 x 50 x 40cmInspired by the diversity of living beings, I merge animal and plant characteristics to envision a new kind of creature—one that exists somewhere between the familiar and the unknown.
Influenced by Sullivan from Monsters, Inc., I chose materials like fleece to evoke the tactile warmth and softness associated with animals.
The use of pastel tones introduces a sense of unreality—like a vividly colored plant blooming in the desert, suggesting the illusion of an oasis.
Memorabilia of The Ocean (2023.07)Foam, Acrylic PlatesSize VaryMemorabilia of the Ocean reflects my observation of the gradual pollution and transformation of the sea surrounding the city where I live. The work stems from a sense of nostalgia for the once-clear ocean and an awareness of the growing presence of man-made materials that now define it.
The installation features bright orange foam strips arranged rhythmically across the space, evoking both marine flora and the synthetic debris that now dominates coastal environments. The orange forms suggest algae—fast-growing, invasive life that mirrors human-made pollution in its spread and density.
At the center stands a coral-like sculpture composed of angular, triangular fragments. Once a symbol of purity and vitality, this form has been painted in a muted blue-gray, marking the loss of its original brilliance. These geometric fragments represent memory—an archive of the ocean’s former clarity—and the irreversible transformation caused by human impact.
Symbiont 1 (2023.08)Resin, Fabric180 x 80 x 80cmInspired by the diversity of living forms, I merge characteristics of animals and plants to imagine a new species—one that blurs the boundaries between the organic and the fantastical. By layering cloth onto the surface, I evoke the coarse, tactile quality of vegetation, grounding the work in a sense of materiality and growth. The use of soft pastel tones introduces a dreamlike contrast—an otherworldly vision of a luminous plant thriving in the desert, an illusion of life where it shouldn’t exist.
Symbiont 2 (2023.08)Resin, Fabric170 x 50 x 40cmInspired by the diversity of living beings, I merge animal and plant characteristics to envision a new kind of creature—one that exists somewhere between the familiar and the unknown. Influenced by Sullivan from Monsters, Inc., I chose materials like fleece to evoke the tactile warmth and softness associated with animals. The use of pastel tones introduces a sense of unreality—like a vividly colored plant blooming in the desert, suggesting the illusion of an oasis.