When I look at this felt collage, I see more than colours and stitches. I see the rhythm of uneven edges, the slight irregularities that refuse to conform. Some would call them imperfections. I call them life.
In a world obsessed with symmetry, polish, and precision, we often forget that real beauty rarely follows rules. The mountain is not symmetrical, nor is a river’s path. Our faces are never identical on both sides, and even our memories arrive with blurred edges. Yet, it is precisely this unevenness that makes things alive, memorable, and unique.
This work, with its rough seams and shifting borders, carries that truth. The threads don’t bind it into perfection; they hold it in its becoming. Its strength lies not in flawless geometry but in the quiet way it mirrors the world—untamed, unfinished, but full of presence.
Perhaps attraction lies not in what is “ideal” but in what bears witness to the passage of hands, breath, and thought. In what shows its edges honestly, without disguising them.
Because, after all, nothing in this world is perfect. Yet, everything carries a form of beauty that is undeniable, even when it appears uneven. Especially then.
Felt, Paint & Reflection 