A bag, stripped of function. A shell, a shield, a weapon. 3D-printed bones, stitched with instinct.

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I build them like weapons, but they're not meant to harm. They're meant to make you feel that you could.

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Each layer is a negotiation between control and destruction. I like the moment when the bag starts to look like it's protecting itself.

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They are sculptures that pretend to be bags. Or maybe bags that forgot how to behave.

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Every object carries its own violance.