Crossroads

Here, the crossform becomes unstable: assembled, inverted, rotating, fraying. Detached from doctrine, it becomes a minimal structure—holding weight, gravity, suspension, collapse. Not chosen, but encountered.

My engagement with old saddlebags began through a growing fascination with rural objects displaced in urban contexts—objects that seem to have lost their function, yet retain a dense physical memory. I started collecting them not as artifacts, but as carriers of use: worn fabrics marked by contact with the animal body—heat, sweat, friction, time.

These elements introduce load—bringing weight into the work, both literal and residual.

In the studio, they are not composed but allowed to enter into relation. Placed on the ground, they settle, shift, resist. The crossform does not result from intention; it emerges through the negotiation of weight, balance, and proximity..

From rigid to soft, from vertical to horizontal, the structure shifts. What once carried now rests. What supported becomes surface. The work moves through states of endurance and exposure, where the body is no longer present, yet insistently registered.