ANOTHER?
3D print, silicone
2025
A stress ball is supposed to bring relief. I want to take it in my hands, squeeze it, feel it give way. Let it be flexible, let it adapt to me. I want to be everywhere at once. I have to be everywhere at once. Can I split in two? Divide? Be a version of myself for every situation?
I duplicated my own head. I filled each copy with something different: plaster, kinetic sand, polyurethane foam, potato starch, slime.
The work is meant to be touched.
...WILL BOMB EVERYTHING I WANT
Paraffin, cardboard, concrete, scent
2025
We create to destroy. We destroy to create. I don't know where the line is, or whether it exists at all.
The work consists of thirteen crayon-rockets. The warheads smell of sweet and floral scents. The arrangement of the elements allows for free movement between them. Three of the crayons carry quotes from George Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four.
FREEDOM IS SLAVERY
TWO AND TWO MAKE FIVE
GOD IS POWER
The title twists a line from a Polish children's song about colourful crayons: where the original promises to paint everything.
BOUQUET
Leather, bronze
2025
I found leather elements on the ground. I didn't know where they came from. What caught my attention was their shape, raw but subtle. As if pressure had refined them.
I searched online. It suggested: badge, shield. Visually close, but not quite right. It turned out they were parts designed to work under pressure, responsible for maintaining a seal under constant movement and friction.
The openings in the elements correspond exactly to the dimensions of a real bullet.
POST-CONSTRUCTS
Ceramics, copper
2025
I started with images of ruins and degraded structures. I noticed how easily I aestheticize them. I look at cracks, shifts, damage and I see composition. Decay became something visually attractive.
What began to interest me was what happens just before. The moment between stability and collapse, when everything is still standing but no longer holding together the way it should. I want it to stay exactly like that, even though I know it needs to be repaired or torn down.
RUMOR HAS IT
Stone, metal
2024 – present
It started with an overheard conversation. At a market, a woman was talking about what was to come. No one wanted to listen. They didn't believe her. It came true sometime later.
I find myself wondering how far my own numbness has gone. How many things will still move me, and how many will I choose to ignore. How often do we all do this – consciously deciding what we want and what we don't want to hear.
The stone form references the shape of an ear. The metal elements refer to a microscopic image of hair cells in the inner ear, the structures responsible for receiving sound. When intact, the system this work refers to indicates normal hearing function.
MAJKI
Cotton, steel
2024
Majki lived with paralysis in his hind legs for several years, with screws in his spine from surgery. Sometimes he used a wheelchair, but usually he got by without it. He was fast, full of life, the most energetic of all our animals. He didn't even seem to notice he was disabled.
We had several dogs. He was "my" dog. The one I grew closest to.
I started sculpting him when he began to get sick. I finished when he was already gone.
After casting, the sculpture underwent a transformation, much like Majki himself. Its hind part began to shrink and deform over time, though at first the shape was full and anatomical.
A CITY SYMPHONY
concrete, plaster, polyurethane foam, paper, grain, foil, glass, cotton
2024
The sound of cooing pigeons filled the space. I could smell the city's decay and... another flying rat walked right up to my feet!
I walked through Jan Matejko Square in Kraków almost every day, where pigeons were everywhere. They had taken over the pavements, they even stopped moving aside, as if they wanted to be stepped on. I treated them as pests, part of the city's grime, something to avoid. Working on the installation, I began to notice how deeply the city we share had broken them.
Later, one of them brushed my cheek with its wing. They still annoy me. I still feel sorry for them.
THE LAST TIME IN THE SANDBOX
Concrete, sand, metal, wood
2023
It was late at night, we were talking about childhood and memories. I realized then that at some point I simply stopped going to the sandbox. I had so many memories tied to that place: group games, building sandcastles, walking around the wooden frame. Suddenly I abandoned something that had been a routine part of my summers for years. Other things took over. I never went back.
The sandbox frame comes from a dismantled playground at my family home.
