Can, resin, paint, wood
2025
40x40x110cm
It’s just a dented cola can—only now it’s gold. It sits on the matte black surface of a small, perfectly square table I built, still letting go of its last drop of some unknown, neutral, white liquid. A tiny, ordinary moment, frozen.
I keep coming back to things like this. Little details most people walk past without a glance—yet once you really look, they open up. They can be funny, a bit sad, strangely beautiful. This piece is my way of holding onto one of those moments and giving it room to breathe.
The gold is a bit of a game. It’s reverent, but also tongue-in-cheek. It makes me wonder: is the beauty already there, or does it appear when we decide to notice it? At the same time, there’s a quiet nod to how we consume things—how quickly we move from wanting something to discarding it, how the last sip rarely matters as much as the first.
For me, this work lives in that in-between place—part tenderness, part irony—trying to see what’s worth holding onto before it’s gone.
