An Ongoing Rehearsal within
a Labyrinth

In 2022, after completing my Master’s degree in Estonia, I moved directly to a city in the UK. The decision felt somewhat abrupt, and in many ways, unchosen. I remember spending a long time before my arrival navigating the area through Google Maps—surveying streets, buildings, and environments. In this state of “pre-arrival orientation,” I began forming mental images of a place I had never physically entered, generating a tension between imagined stability and geographic positioning.

This experience became the starting point of my practice. A map seems to promise direction, offering a pathway to a place called “home”—an endpoint where anxiety might find rest. Yet, once I began living in this so-called destination, I felt only a deep sense of dislocation and despair. It was as if I were holding a map that failed to lead me to any space where I could actually belong. The destination had never truly existed—only the illusion of it.

This exhibition traces what I now describe as “an ongoing rehearsal within a labyrinth.” It reflects the gap between the imagined clarity of a destination and the dissonance of actual living. When symbols and shaded zones on a map can no longer guide us to where we hoped to arrive, we are left circling inside abstract signs—hovering in a state of unresolved, drifting, uncertain being. I became, in this process, an uninhabited shell—something moved, but not filled.

During my two-month residency at Copper Leg, I return to several recurring questions: What is the fiction of direction? What does it mean for existence to drift? And how much of belonging is shaped by chance? Does the idea of a “destination” truly exist, or is it merely a projection formed by perception?

In the exhibition space, I reconfigure familiar objects into misaligned or dysfunctional structures, attempting to give form to a quiet resistance—a questioning of whether existence possesses direction at all. Through experimental approaches, I explore the poetic potential of materials—transforming objects that once served clear functions into symbols of instability. These disruptions are not acts of destruction, but gestures of disorientation—revealing how we perceive and make sense of place. Each reconstruction and deviation becomes a moment of doubt toward direction, and a reimagining of what it means to belong.