An Atlas of Belonging in Limbo.

part 1.

The first part of the project contemplates a world in unsettling transition. Sunlight persists, yet the air hangs heavy, and the vibrant tapestry of birdsong frays into silence. Our connections – once familiar – strain and transform... A profound rift widens in the shared ground beneath us, mirroring a society hardening, its empathy thinning. We sense a collective stumble, a gnawing absence where compassion resided. The imperative to move, to migrate from this fractured point, remains urgent. Yet, a stark quiet descends, visions grow shadowed by a gathering, unsettling presence... 

What do you feel?

On Humanity and Life in female body.

Part 2.

My work remains an attempt to reconcile the sacred and the earthly through body, desire, and image – exploring how our fantasies become visual rituals. Yet, for this exploration of migration’s unseen layers, I chose the figure of the woman as a lens. Not because her oppression is simple – often, it’s the most visibly documented façade of a far deeper structure – but because her very body becomes a contested territory in the geography of global inequality, a mirror reflecting the unspoken hierarchies that drive movement.

Womanhood, defined and redefined across borders, embodies the stark disparities that make migration not merely an escape from war, disaster, or poverty, but a navigation through profound, often invisible, global fault lines. In one country, she is property; in another, a bearer of specific, conditional rights; elsewhere, perhaps a symbol of contested modernity. This patchwork of existence reveals the deep, normalized inequality in which we all live. Migration exposes this: a woman fleeing not bombs, but the suffocation of being seen only as womb, or property, or an economic unit with capped potential.

Once labeled a feminist, the term felt like another border – constricting, demanding allegiance to a specific wave or doctrine. I read Simone de Beauvoir, seeking a homeland within the idea. ‘What is a woman?’ she asked, and the question echoed hollowly. For me, a migrant from rigid definitions, woman was never more or less: just human. A human capable of being anything: fragile, exploited, manipulated, unshielded – precisely the vulnerabilities magnified tenfold when she crosses borders, carrying the weight of compounded expectations and systemic invisibility. Her journey underscores that migration’s roots snake deep into the fertile soil of inequality – the very soil we tread daily, often unaware of its shifting, treacherous nature beneath the surface of normalcy.