In the realm of my artistry, I embrace boundless freedom—unrestricted by specific materials or predetermined forms. Each sculpture and installation is a canvas for the expression of my deepest emotions, crafted from materials chosen to resonate with the essence of the subject matter.
From the earthiness of clay to the ethereality of light, I harness the inherent qualities of each material to articulate the ineffable. Whether it’s the warmth of wood, the coolness of metal, or the softness of fabric, every texture, every hue, speaks volumes about the emotions I seek to convey.
But it’s not just about the materials—it’s about the experience. In my installations, I strive to create immersive environments that invite viewers to engage with their senses. Through thoughtful arrangement and spatial design, I aim to evoke a visceral response—a journey through the tactile, the visual, and the emotional.
So join me on this exploration of form and feeling, where every sculpture and installation is a testament to the power of art to transcend boundaries and touch the soul.
The title “Contradictory Entities” refers to creatures that embody contradictions or paradoxes within themselves. This title can encompass concepts of contradictions, resistances, and conflicts in the world. These contradictions can be physical, mental, or spiritual, and they can be overt or internal.Each movement and sway, each collision and obstacle that arises, tells a story of resistance and contradiction. This artwork offers a profound exploration of concepts such as identity, belonging, and human contradictions.Upon witnessing this piece, you will feel engaged in a mental journey; a journey that guides you towards hidden reasons and internal complexities of humanity. This experience not only allows you to delve into your own depths but also provides you with the opportunity to familiarize yourself with the conflicts and contrasts of the world around you, uncovering its hidden beauties.Leaving an indelible mark on the landscape of tomorrow.
This sculpture is built from discarded materials — fragments of our own excess.
It depicts a figure consuming a green fabric, symbolizing nature, and expelling a brown one, a trace of decay.
The act is cyclical and violent in its simplicity: what we take from nature, we return as waste.
Made entirely from junk, the piece mirrors the paradox of modern existence — how creation and destruction now share the same material.
Built entirely from discarded materials, this figure stands like a guardian — a watcher made of what we’ve thrown away.
Its body is formed from fragments of waste, yet it carries a silent sense of duty, as if protecting us from the ruins we’ve created.
The sculpture questions what it means to guard a world already consumed by excess — is it a protector, or a relic of our own neglect?
In this series, the human body is explored as a meeting point between the material and the spiritual. The angelic forms are not intended to depict celestial beings, but to reflect the human desire for liberation, transcendence, and meaning. Each sculpture captures a suspended moment — a state between earth and sky, between the physical and the mental. The wings serve as metaphors for potential and aspiration rather than symbols of holiness or separation from the human realm. These works seek to reconsider the body not as a limitation, but as a vessel through which thought and spirit can be experienced.
Alignment is my fiberglass sculpture depicting the fragile balance in which interpersonal relations are sustained in a pre-ordained and pre-conditioned social order. The base being a defined shade which metamorphoses into patterns on the feminine half, is my experiment with form and color, trying to merge both as they are but extensions of my thought groups.
However I perceive these thought groups in differential feeling modules and not literary words. The essence of the work should not be defined whatsoever and it should be what it is witnessed as.
By fiberglass
185cm.40cm.60cm
April 2019
This sculpture depicts the female body at the threshold between death and awakening. It is built in multiple layers — the lower layers are red, symbolizing blood, violence, and the physical ground of death, while the upper black layers evoke silence, mourning, and resilience.
The female figure appears to rise from a bed of blood — not as a return to life, but as an act of resistance. The slightly movable hands suggest the possibility of movement, agency, and voice — gestures that defy stillness.
The piece was inspired by the killing of a woman during a revolutionary protest — a moment when her body, instead of disappearing into silence, became a collective symbol of endurance and awakening.
Through this work, I aim to represent the body not merely as a victim, but as a site of persistence, memory, and defiance against violence.
This sculpture is created through collage — fragments of paint, image, and material layered to form a body of memory.
It slowly turns, whispering a lullaby, holding a kite that carries strands of my mother’s hair inside.
I made it in her memory — as a way to let her presence move, breathe, and sing again.
The work stands between absence and return, where every rotation becomes a gentle act of remembering.
One day, my dog brought me a dead bird — I think it was a crow.
I used its feathers to create a mechanical bird, giving it a new kind of life, one made of iron and movement.
When I turn the crank, the bird flaps its wings, and when I spin it harder, a red light glows through its face — as if its heart, or its memory, flickers back for a moment.
The work reflects on death and revival, on our urge to rebuild what’s lost — even if the new life we give is made of metal.
This sculpture is made from wood and discarded materials, shaped into a horse.
Its face is built from a door lock — when I pull the rope, or the rein, the lock opens and its tongue appears.
The horse stands between restraint and release, a creature whose expression is literally tied to control.
The work reflects on power, freedom, and the silent tension between obedience and voice.
In this installation, pistachios become a silent crowd — identical at first glance, yet each carrying a hidden world within its shell.
The video begins with a flood of pistachios, an indistinguishable mass. As the camera moves closer, a few faces emerge — hand-painted, fragile, and human.
Through this simple gesture, the work reflects on identity and individuality within collectivity: how meaning appears only when we look closely, when we dare to see the person inside the crowd.