Why is land so important, and what does it mean to belong to it or be a part of it? Or not? Land is intrinsic to our identity – a reflection of belonging, or the lack of it. It embodies a system of barriers, dividing people or leaving them disconnected. 

My sculptures act as extensions of myself – fragmented, fragile, trying to hold together roots from two places. These works are about adapting, preserving and sometimes breaking apart to rebuild. Through my work, I delve into the idea of land and our connection to its essence, examining its significance both physically and metaphorically. 

As part of my practice, I use folk embroidery symbols from my Romanian culture within my work. This imperfect, tactile element adds a sense of authenticity and connection to the tradition I am honouring, while also reflecting the personal journey of mastering this craft. These traditional Romanian symbols serve as cultural markers, but I also use them to ask: what does it mean to display, preserve, or even perform culture? Especially when navigating systems that want to erase or distort it?

Embroidery, like many traditions, is fading – less practiced, less visible. For me, it’s a quiet protest. A resistance to disappearance. A way to speak when language or belonging feels inaccessible. 

My work depicts how disrupted systems impacted roots and belonging. I am in the process of understanding my place on this earth, but how can I find purpose if my roots seem lost? How can I belong to one system yet feel disconnected from another? And yet belong to two but not one? 

These questions I may never fully answer but through my practice, I hold space for them. The work exists in that tension-between loss and growth, silence and articulation, between being from two places but fully belonging to neither. And perhaps that’s the point. Not to be resolved, but to remain open.