The Glass Archive is rooted in an obsession with the moment of breaking, the invisible line between form and fracture. I don’t try to repair what is broken. I observe it. Draw it. Hold it. Glass, once shattered, doesn’t lose its identity it becomes the archive of its own transformation.
Each piece carries the vibrations of impact: a silent ripple that remains long after the noise has passed. The fragments hold time, memory, and refusal. They reflect my own unacceptance, the need to understand how something becomes what it is.

The work lives in that suspended state: between damage and dignity, between tension and stillness.

“Glass is not fragile because it breaks, it’s fragile because it remembers.”