The empty capsules holding the air, trapped within the emotional chrysalis. The thin lines of fibre, attempting to connect the form together. The mesh that protects, but also traps. Lightness of matter, the intrusion of elements, the hidden and the exposed. The nuances of fading colours - are they completely washed off? Is there a sign of movement? What will emerge from these cocoons? Is the inhabiting creature still alive?
Looking at the cluster of objects brings the echo of painful repetition.