“You’re a ghost of this place”

I shot these photographs before closing my live-work space for hire, where I worked and lived from 2018 till the beginning of 2022.
It was a way too big workspace for me to master and a house constantly filled with strangers. I could not afford to leave my studio unmanaged for more than a few days, therefore I would give up on basic needs such as feeling at home, have rest and traveling.

More than the commitment to my business, the visceral attachment to the place itself consumed my freedom. “You’re a ghost of this place” is what one of my last housemates told me after moving out. But I had been aware of this truth since the first lockdown of 2020, because the forced captivity made no difference to me.

Body and mind vanish into the architecture and skin tones merge with the walls into a single organism, a breathing cocoon yet ready to open up. Yet, besides the sense of entrapment and identity loss experienced by turning an unfulfilling job into a concrete prison, those years had been for me one of the most useful training, both on a practical and emotional level.