Series of charcoal on paper, 21 x 29.7 cm each

Elusive Breaths, 2024

Series of charcoal on paper, 21 x 29.7 cm each


Experimenting with charcoal after a long time I am drawn to Käthe Kollwitz's approach to portraying human suffering and resilience, specially her work titled “Mother with Her Dead Son”. The usuage of dark tones, often capturing raw emotions in charcoal, inspired me to use charcoal as a primary medium in this project. Letting the medium speak to themes of struggle and empathy, charcoal’s stark, textural quality lends itself well to depicting shadows and depths, symbolizing darkness that holds history, pain, and memory. In this dialogue between light and dark, light enters gently, illuminating edges of the unseen. It doesn’t overpower but invites response, expressions to emerge from shadow with a quiet intensity. This tension—between light's soft reach and darkness’s powerful presence—creates a space for viewers to encounter both clarity and shadow, evoking reflection on their inner dialogues and responses to both clarity and obscurity.

With every wave of anger, I noticed a lighter emotion followed, like a ripple gradually softening after crashing onto the shore. Each surge of frustration seemed to give way to a gentler feeling, as though the intensity of my darker emotions had created space for lightness to seep in, layer by layer. It dawned on me that this wasn’t a random shift; it was as if the light was speaking directly to my darkness. My anger, doubt, and hurt—all these intense, shadowed feelings—were being met with moments of calm, clarity, and even compassion in response.

This discovery felt transformative. Rather than perceiving my emotions as separate entities or battling forces, I realized they were in conversation. The darkness was voicing its pain, and the light, instead of dismissing it, was acknowledging it, offering warmth and understanding in reply. Every cycle of anger and calm became a dialogue, with each feeling having a role and a response. The light didn’t try to erase the darkness, nor did it invalidate the emotions I felt in shadowed spaces; it was listening and softly responding, bridging the gap between heaviness and relief. This back-and-forth created a rhythm of acceptance, showing me that my darker moments were not finalities but openings, each holding a chance for light to enter, heal, and transform.