As I assembled this little house from tiny parts – pebbles or souvenirs found in second-hand shops – I thought about how each of them is more than it seems. Behind every object, there is at least a small story – a fragment of someone’s emotions, choices, and, ultimately, someone’s life. I was drawn to the anonymity of these stories because it allowed me to abstract them to the level of an image. At the same time, it evoked a sense of unsettling melancholy in me – knowing these stories were lost forever. I thought about the fragility of grand constructs, the collapse of which I have witnessed and continue to witness before my eyes. And about how their fragments still become the foundation of new life. I thought about memory. Does it become more significant when what shaped it disappears? Ultimately, I thought about what “home” really means and how much that definition can change when it is threatened with loss.​

​

mixed media, papier-mâché
140x150x200h

​

Design: Lyuda Skrynykova