Memory in Derealisation

This was the first painting that set the tone for the series. Its stillness and realism make me question the boundary between truth and imagination—what makes these people real? Painting my father, who passed away in 2010, and my mother, whom I haven’t seen in years, forced me to confront the fragility of memory—how it preserves and distorts at the same time.

The way I work involves constant trial and error; it’s a battle to accomplish what cannot be accomplished. Even gold won’t make them real.

Here, the idea begins to evolve. I attempt to place these familiar figures into invented spaces—rooms, moments, or contexts that never existed—trying to see how far memory can stretch before it breaks.

This piece captures the quiet rituals that photographs and keepsakes create within my living space. The faces feel known, yet the room feels foreign—the bed, the sheets, the furniture all seem to reject their presence. It becomes a reflection of myself, suspended between belonging and displacement, asking again: what anchors me to the present?