Notes on a Future Spring

Notes on a Future Spring presents a selection from the artist’s archive of 3D-recorded artifacts, gathered during field explorations and hikes across rural landscapes. Where light, stone, and wind appear to dominate, wild flora emerges as an active agent of self-determination, resilience, and disobedience. Uncovering these plants growing among agricultural ruins, the work repositioned them not as mere weeds, but as the rightful heirs to a landscape once built by human hands.

In this work, 3D digital scans are translated into physical forms, forming a contemporary herbarium of digital fossils engraved on wax and clay, and imprinted onto natural stone. At the core of this translation is a dedicated research into material ecology. By investigating, formulating, and applying bio-based and low-impact substrates, the project bridges the virtual precision of digital recording with a circular, environmentally responsible material practice. While digital technology and digital fabrication are frequently tethered to resource extraction and synthetic mediums, here they are intentionally redirected toward sustainable alternatives. To bridge this gap, custom digital tools, including modified CNC machinery, were engineered specifically to engrave and negotiate these fragile, bio-fabricated surfaces. Within this framework, both the custom hardware and the bio-materials cease to be neutral tools; instead, they operate as active, living carriers of social, cultural, and environmental transformation.

The resulting works serve as a reflection on wild flora and its capacity to thrive under precarious conditions, positioning these silent colonizers as powerful symbols of defiance, endurance, and quiet resistance.

Notes on a Future Spring

 Like a modern wanderer in search of their own Shangri-La*, in A Liquid Mass of Nature Pulled Out of Shape I present three-dimensional recordings of the horizon as seen from the hills of Athens. I construct a mold of something I cannot touch, an intangible form that holds space, time, and experience. A place in constant flux. I create shifting views of the horizon fluid masses born of a paradoxical endeavor, since a faithful three-dimensional capture is ultimately impossible. The result is a strange sensation of an unfamiliar, newly-revealed landscape.

*James Hilton, Lost Horizon, 1933