“Since my childhood, thread has been my way of connecting with the world. I learned to embroider with my grandmother, and since then it has become my means of expression. Through it, I join thoughts, weave ideas, and transform everyday materials into visual narratives.”
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An alphabet without translation,
where water became word and the word became ruin.
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The work unfolds as a surface traversed by a weave of signs that seem to belong to a forgotten language. Its origin—a cascade of water—has blurred, leaving only its shadow transformed into structure. Fragmented lines and variable densities configure a visual territory in which the image oscillates between writing and landscape, functioning more as a record than as representation.

Black threads intersect like the strokes of an impossible script, an alphabet without translation. The vibration of the flow persists in silence: a visual echo in which water became word and the word, ruin. The work does not describe a natural phenomenon, but rather records its transformation into language and sedimented memory.

Within this network, the body asserts itself as an archive, where each gesture preserves the trace of time and making. The surface becomes sensitive skin, an inscription of rhythms and pauses. At the same time, territory is revealed as a cultural construction—mutable and shaped by paths, overlaps, and constant rewritings.
Thus, the work affirms the image as a field of impossible translations, where nature, writing, and memory intertwine. What was once flow becomes sign; what seemed to disappear persists as weave. In this delicate balance between ruin and continuity, the work invites a slow contemplation, attentive to the traces that remain and to the territories that are reinvented with each gaze.