My work is a multilayered dialogue between the body and memory, movement and its loss. I used transparent tracing paper to create a layering effect, where each layer represents a different stage of experience—like ghostly traces of movements that once felt effortless but have now become a struggle. Different combinations of layers with each other give different emotional shades.

On the back layers, the figure of a young woman is captured in ecstatic yet strained poses, as if an invisible force is pulling her arms and legs downward. This is the struggle against weakness, the overwhelming fatigue, the relentless heaviness of muscles. On the next layer, she appears to be floating—an illusion of freedom, a memory of movement that once was. And finally, on the topmost layer, she sits with her arms wrapped around her knees, her head resting on them—a posture of sadness, exhaustion. She seems to long for the ease of movement she once had or dreams of it as something unattainable. But beyond this sorrow, there is also realization: even if the body changes, life continues. This is not only about illness but about acceptance, about understanding that weakness does not exclude strength of spirit.

This work is more than just an exploration of myopathy. It is a deeply personal reflection on physical limitations—on frustration, fear, grief—but also on the memory of movement and the dream of soaring, even when the body refuses to obey.