What Holds Us

A rusted fan. A coffee machine that stopped. A chair that lost its seat. A plate from someone's kitchen. Each was on its way out of a home when I took it in and planted it with the grasses, sedges and small plants that grow wild around Goa.

I leave the rust, the cracks and the missing parts as they are. The damage is where the roots find purchase. Over weeks, the object stops being an appliance and becomes a ground: something that holds soil, water and the life that arrives on its own.

The work began with a simple noticing. Plants grow out of old walls here without anyone's permission. Built matter, left alone long enough, starts to host. What Holds Us asks what else around us might, if we let it.