A long, gray creature extends across the gallery space like a snake rising with its mouth open. It emerges from far back, through a small, fenced window that connects two different areas. Behind this window, there is a room with a sand-covered floor, where the other end of the gray creature originates, lying on top of the sand and thus inhabiting both spaces. A flowerlike pendulum hangs in the center of the sand room, moving subtly and leaving its marks on the sand. The pendulum sculpture is cast in bronze, shaped like a flat drawing. Tea leaves are suspended in its resin, mimicking a stained-glass ornament, and it holds a rolled-up green leaf in a pocket at its center. Like an abstract form of a sand clock, the sculpture becomes a scribe of its own movement on the impermanent sand surface. The sculpture also functions as a container, holding leaves at different stages of their decay, generating a process of cultivation. In the corner of the room, a dark, organically- shaped bowl contains murky water with aquatic mosses and an organism-like figure at the bottom, appearing through the sediment.
Blossoming Carcass narrates the story of a living skeleton-keeper and her relationship with the creatures in her care. Fragments of this narrative are combined with a material interplay that oscillates between sculptural and painted qualities. In this conjunction, the exoskeleton is an exchange between the structure and the surface, a coexistence of two states. A delicate feeling of otherness comes from within, evoking a familiar sensation linked with the similar human capacity for transformation. The process of molting is taking place slowly, and its remnants occupy the space in an apparent stillness.