Desert Frequencies

In Desert Frequencies, I explore memory, dreams, and my connection to the past. I am interested in the way memories behave like frequencies—sometimes clear, sometimes interrupted, sometimes almost lost, yet still present somewhere beneath the surface. The mid-century modern objects and technologies that appear in my paintings—vintage radios, transistors, tape recorders, and other familiar forms—come from a time when tuning in required patience and attention. For me, they have become vessels of memory, transmitting fragments of voices, music, places, relationships and former versions of ourselves.

I see the vast desert landscape as both a tangible environment and an inner, psychological space. Its immensity creates silence, but within that silence exist countless frequencies. My figures rest, wait, dream, and listen. They seem suspended somewhere between past and present, between reality and memory. They try to tune into something distant—a forgotten moment, or the Earth frequency.

I am particularly drawn to the contrast between mid-century modern technology and the timelessness of the landscape. The radios and tape recorders already belong to another era, while the desert seems ancient and permanent. Yet neither is permanent. Technologies become obsolete, memories fade, and landscapes transform.

This brings me to another important frequency running through the exhibition: our relationship with the Earth. I want these vast spaces to evoke beauty and freedom, but also vulnerability. We often move through the natural world without fully recognizing how every interaction leaves a trace. What appears endless and indestructible is not. Through neglect, consumption and our disconnection from nature, a living landscape can change dramatically—in what feels like a second, abundance can become an empty desert.

For me, Desert Frequencies is ultimately about listening. I am listening to memories, to dreams, to the fading signals of the past and to the quieter signals of the Earth. Through these paintings, I ask myself what I choose to carry forward, what I am leaving behind, and whether I am paying enough attention to the frequencies that may disappear if I fail to hear them.