This new series of drawings emerged during my residency at Schafhof – European Art Forum in the spring of 2024. They developed while I was working on another project titled DATA mattering, almost as a subproduct—quietly forming in the background, like sediment collecting over time. Initially they began as underpapers—thin, nearly invisible sheets beneath my working surface that unintentionally gathered marks, fragments, and traces. But over time, they transformed into an active, vital method of working in their own right.
These drawings process personal impressions, emotional residues, and fragments of memory that arise in the course of other creative labor. They function as a parallel system of release, reflection, and registration. The process is the product: there is no final goal beyond the act of transcribing the inner movement of thought—automatically, intuitively, raw.
Each drawing maps the mind in motion, capturing traces of what is often left unrecorded. There is no deliberate composition, only the accumulation of moments—some accidental, some obsessive, some poetic. From the political to the intimate, from confession to resistance, these works speak in layers, through interruptions, rhythms, and silences. The paper, delicate and prone to tearing, mirrors the fragility of experience and memory itself.
They remain suspended between visibility and secrecy, gesture and symbol, echoing Kant’s idea of schematism—the bridge between perception and concept—and Bergson’s duration, time experienced as a flow rather than a count. The work also resonates with Deleuze’s notion of art as event: something that happens rather than represents.
These pieces were deeply shaped by their context. The architectural rhythms of Schafhof, the threshold-like quality of the space, and the entrance work by Csongor G. Szigeti influenced my awareness of transitional zones—mental and physical. The poetic resonance of P. Shirley’s book title further illuminated the idea of drawing as a means of collecting what resists articulation, of recording what remains rather than what announces itself.
In spirit, this series is also in quiet dialogue with artists like Hanne Darboven and Chantal Akerman, where repetition, time, and notating the everyday become acts of resistance and devotion. These drawings are not preparatory sketches but cognitive topographies—visual recordings of thinking, sensing, and remembering. They unfold in between spaces: between artworks, between thoughts, between states of knowing and unknowing.
They are not so much about making meaning as about noticing what slips through meaning’s frame. Fragile, processual, and persistent, they reveal that the act of drawing can itself be a form of living thought.
