Whirlpool

Whirlpool traces the quiet architecture of medication—how absence can still leave structure, and how care, dependence, and side effects accumulate as a lived rhythm.

Whirlpool began with what remained: empty blister packs saved in a drawer. Pressed into foam board, these traces become both frame and pressure—holding the painted sea in place while imprinting the surface with small, irreversible marks. The work treats the support as a body: light, fragile, and easily dented, able to appear stable from a distance while recording every touch up close.
Painting becomes a counter-routine to swallowing another pill. Layer by layer, the dark blue surface gathers the hours spent trying to regulate feeling through attention and repetition. What is usually discarded is kept visible, not as confession but as evidence: an object-archive of care that is also a system of control. Whirlpool holds these contradictions together—tenderness and restraint, relief and residue—within one small, material record.