This series was born from an intuitive exploration of tension—between fragility and strength, containment and care, softness and resistance. As a mother of two boys, the forms emerged from a deeply personal, bodily knowledge: the act of holding, sheltering, and shaping life while never fully controlling it. Each sculpture pairs a carved wooden form—part seed, part swaddled body, part egg—with a cast cement pillow. The materials carry contradictions: the “pillow” is heavy and unyielding, yet it bears the impression of softness; the wooden forms are cradled, yet also made vulnerable by the weight beneath them.

The philosopher, Luce Irigaray speaks of the feminine not as fixed identity but as space—a relational, generative interval that holds without enclosing. Her conception of the envelope and the placental—structures that support life and meaning without seeking to define or possess them—illuminated the quiet logic within the work.

These sculptures do not assert autonomy. They ask what it means to be held, to be shaped in relation, and to remain open. They reflect on how forms—whether ideas, bodies, or identities—take shape within structures that both nurture and press upon them. In this way, the work aligns with Irigaray’s call to recognize difference not as division, but as a condition for relation and becoming.