L E F T
F E L T

The work begins with a felt carpet that has remained in my family for decades. Once carrying wishes, blessings, and hopes in its patterns, it is now one of the few traces passed from my ata-babalar (from Kazakh: ancestors) to me. A nomadic material settled within concrete walls: wool without its landscape, ornaments without touch, dust without bodies. Formed through pressure, friction, moisture, and time, the work follows the worn areas of the carpet - where bodies once rested, and patterns have thinned. What is left is not repaired, but felt again. In doing so, I learn a practice once lost in my family, remembering the makers, the dreamers, the caretakers our ancestors once were.