The Shape of a Scar

Some wounds do not disappear. They only change form. Sometimes they harden. Sometimes they spread slowly, like something searching for a place in the body and in the world. What hurts us does not always fade with time or with a change of place. It moves with us. It settles in gestures, in relationships, in the way we look at others and at ourselves. Over time, it stops being an event and becomes a structure. In these works, the body is not closed. It is porous, open to touch and to rupture. The boundary between what is inside and what is outside remains unstable. Emotions, memories, and tensions pass into matter, into form, into objects. A wound is not only a trace of pain. It is a place where something begins to shift. What has been wounded does not return to its previous shape. It grows differently. It hardens. It searches for new ways to exist. Not everything heals. Not everything has to.