little aches

little aches
the constant yearning
to feel

little sparks, the tingling in the heart
little stars lighting up the night

I feel these stars, their cold sharp ends
while wishing for something I couldn’t have

I felt those stars flowing in my veins
when all we could be was just being friends

So I learn to dance with them in my sleep
And carry them inside me while going through the day

All those impossible pasts and possible futures

they keep me on the move, ever evolving,
changing their shapes
sweet little aches

The central element of the exhibition is a recurring star-like shape, the origin of which remains a mystery to me. One day in March, I simply started drawing it in the margins of my notebook. The flame-like tails of the stars hypnotically appealed to me, affecting something deep within my subconscious. I found myself drawing the pattern everywhere, deriving comfort and pleasure from it, even though the act had no specific purpose—it was just a way to fill empty space and time.

My obsession with the pattern was escapist in nature; I recognized within myself a desire to become engrossed in something that would offer an escape to another reality. Yet, my attempt to flee actually brought me closer to myself through the meditative nature of the process. Both drawing the patterns and carving them into the plate require patience and focus on the body’s repetitive movements.

At their core, the works reflect a longing—a sense of aching for being somewhere or becoming something. This feeling is bittersweet to me, and I admit I might even enjoy the small aches it stirs within me as I dream of the past and future.