Garble

To garble is to reproduce something in a confused or distorted way. I see photography as inherently garbling reality—flattening it into a two-dimensional surface that conceals more than it reveals. The camera translates reality into a digital file or a piece of photographic paper, but in that translation, truths are bent, hidden, or lost.

In this series, I explore the relationship between the human body, its past, and its surroundings. The images are set in a domestic space, where elements like tiles, walls, gutters, or mops repeat—becoming quiet anchors in the otherwise uncertain scenes. Within these spaces, I present a body—sometimes whole, sometimes fragmented—bound, constrained, or distorted. Each image enters its own tension between the known and the unknown, compelling the viewer to construct meaning from limited information.

I want the viewer to feel a curious mix of comfort, intrigue, and voyeurism. Reality is further distorted by the physical qualities of the photographic paper itself: folds, bends, wrinkles, and dust shape the image as much as the camera does. In some areas, overexposure erases detail; in others, underexposure conceals it. The body appears caught in motion, but in truth, it is still—performing and held in place for five minutes, suspended between movement and stasis.