Byron School of Art: 2024–2026
This ongoing chapter of study at the Byron School of Art is a space of deep exploration, where I’m expanding my practice, challenging old patterns, and opening myself to the unknown. As I move through this three-year program, I’m drawn again and again to themes of belonging, impermanence, transition, and the feeling of being caught between worlds—between places, cultures, and identities.
Through projects like Impermanence of Identity, Threshold of Self, and Fragments of a Beginning, I’m beginning to unravel and reweave personal and collective narratives. This space is a window into the work behind the scenes—unfinished thoughts, layered processes, quiet discoveries, and the slow unfolding of ideas. It's where curiosity leads, where doubt is welcomed, and where each mark made or material chosen becomes a way of understanding the self in motion.
This page will continue to grow alongside my studies—reflecting not only finished work, but also the fragments, questions, and transitions that shape it.
Through projects like Impermanence of Identity, Threshold of Self, and Fragments of a Beginning, I’m beginning to unravel and reweave personal and collective narratives. This space is a window into the work behind the scenes—unfinished thoughts, layered processes, quiet discoveries, and the slow unfolding of ideas. It's where curiosity leads, where doubt is welcomed, and where each mark made or material chosen becomes a way of understanding the self in motion.
This page will continue to grow alongside my studies—reflecting not only finished work, but also the fragments, questions, and transitions that shape it.
Impermanence of Identity (2024)
The theme of impermanence and identity has motivated the work. My father’s surname was discarded on arrival to Australia and replaced with a new name. Assimilation into society discards old for new, just as a woman takes on a man’s name with marriage discarding her maiden name.
As my father’s name was changed when he immigrated to Australia, my own sense of identity has been challenged throughout my life. Being given the Macedonian name Lena at birth, my name then became Helen, the translation of Lena. The continual need to explain my name difference from what appears on government papers to what is used more commonly, wore thin over time. It felt like my identity was being questioned. Who was I? Why was I using another name? It felt odd, as a chair or a cup could be called many different names in other languages. Yet a given name was more difficult to grasp as a translation.
Women in particular have their names changed in marriage. They take on the male family name discarding their own. But what happens when the marriage doesn’t work? Is it discarded or retained for the sake of the kids?
These cultural and societal norms of labelling and giving names to people provoked a search for understanding of the transient and impermanence of identity. This impermanence swirls around us creating confusion at times, playing with our sense of identity, our sense of belonging. Who are we? What are we? Associations are lost over time whilst new ones emerge temporarily. We shed our layers whilst we sleep and wake to the dawn of a new day.
In the making of my artwork, IMPERMANENCE of IDENTITY, I used a combination of discarded natural and manmade objects that change, evolve, or can be deconstructed, reconstructed and reused, influenced by art movements such as Art Povera and Environmental Art. It allowed me to come to terms with my own identity as something dynamic rather than static. We are constantly surrounded by the used and discarded. We ourselves, are part of this natural and manifested discarded state of existence. Our identities are fragmented over time.
When a snake sheds its skin, it’s leaving behind an old, worn-out layer to make way for new growth. This process symbolizes the idea that change is a natural and necessary part of life. Just as the snake must shed its skin to continue growing, we too must let go of outdated aspects of ourselves to evolve and progress. The old skin, while once vital, becomes irrelevant as it is cast off, reflecting how our past experiences and stages are transient and give way to new phases.
Cicadas undergo a remarkable transformation from nymphs to adults, emerging from the ground and leaving behind their old shells. These empty shells cling to trees as a testament to the cicada’s past life but are no longer functional. They represent the idea that while our past selves and experiences are important, they are not permanent fixtures; they are stages in our ongoing transformation. The cicada shell serves as a reminder of how our own lives are marked by phases of change and renewal.
Seed pods contain the potential for new life but eventually dry up and decompose after dispersing their seeds. They symbolize the end of one phase and the beginning of another, showing how life is a continuous cycle of birth, growth, decay, and rebirth. The pod’s impermanence highlights how endings are not final but are merely a prelude to new beginnings. It underscores the idea that even in our endings, there is the potential for renewal and continuation.
IMPERMANENCE of IDENTITY is a reflective, hopeful and provocative installation that encourages viewers to pause and reflect on their own self in society, and what it means in the context of identity. While dealing with themes of used and discarded, the use of transformed objects can also create a hopeful tone as it shows the potential for creativity and renewal from what is discarded. The installation can provoke critical thinking about societal values. It can challenge viewers to confront their perceptions of identity, fostering dialogue and awareness.
As my father’s name was changed when he immigrated to Australia, my own sense of identity has been challenged throughout my life. Being given the Macedonian name Lena at birth, my name then became Helen, the translation of Lena. The continual need to explain my name difference from what appears on government papers to what is used more commonly, wore thin over time. It felt like my identity was being questioned. Who was I? Why was I using another name? It felt odd, as a chair or a cup could be called many different names in other languages. Yet a given name was more difficult to grasp as a translation.
Women in particular have their names changed in marriage. They take on the male family name discarding their own. But what happens when the marriage doesn’t work? Is it discarded or retained for the sake of the kids?
These cultural and societal norms of labelling and giving names to people provoked a search for understanding of the transient and impermanence of identity. This impermanence swirls around us creating confusion at times, playing with our sense of identity, our sense of belonging. Who are we? What are we? Associations are lost over time whilst new ones emerge temporarily. We shed our layers whilst we sleep and wake to the dawn of a new day.
In the making of my artwork, IMPERMANENCE of IDENTITY, I used a combination of discarded natural and manmade objects that change, evolve, or can be deconstructed, reconstructed and reused, influenced by art movements such as Art Povera and Environmental Art. It allowed me to come to terms with my own identity as something dynamic rather than static. We are constantly surrounded by the used and discarded. We ourselves, are part of this natural and manifested discarded state of existence. Our identities are fragmented over time.
When a snake sheds its skin, it’s leaving behind an old, worn-out layer to make way for new growth. This process symbolizes the idea that change is a natural and necessary part of life. Just as the snake must shed its skin to continue growing, we too must let go of outdated aspects of ourselves to evolve and progress. The old skin, while once vital, becomes irrelevant as it is cast off, reflecting how our past experiences and stages are transient and give way to new phases.
Cicadas undergo a remarkable transformation from nymphs to adults, emerging from the ground and leaving behind their old shells. These empty shells cling to trees as a testament to the cicada’s past life but are no longer functional. They represent the idea that while our past selves and experiences are important, they are not permanent fixtures; they are stages in our ongoing transformation. The cicada shell serves as a reminder of how our own lives are marked by phases of change and renewal.
Seed pods contain the potential for new life but eventually dry up and decompose after dispersing their seeds. They symbolize the end of one phase and the beginning of another, showing how life is a continuous cycle of birth, growth, decay, and rebirth. The pod’s impermanence highlights how endings are not final but are merely a prelude to new beginnings. It underscores the idea that even in our endings, there is the potential for renewal and continuation.
IMPERMANENCE of IDENTITY is a reflective, hopeful and provocative installation that encourages viewers to pause and reflect on their own self in society, and what it means in the context of identity. While dealing with themes of used and discarded, the use of transformed objects can also create a hopeful tone as it shows the potential for creativity and renewal from what is discarded. The installation can provoke critical thinking about societal values. It can challenge viewers to confront their perceptions of identity, fostering dialogue and awareness.
Threshold of Self (2024)
The Threshold of Self series explores the complexity of identity in a world that often feels fragmented and in flux. Each painting presents a self-portrait of only half my face, symbolizing a sense of partiality, incompleteness, and division—reflecting the liminal spaces I find myself inhabiting. These spaces, both physical and emotional, are thresholds between one state and another—moments of transition, ambiguity, and uncertainty. The half-face becomes a visual metaphor for the space between presence and absence, engagement and detachment, reality and illusion.
As life becomes increasingly complex, there are times when I feel disconnected from my own experience, as if operating on autopilot or drifting through the motions. The shift from light sketch to greater detail in each painting mirrors this tension between disconnection and the slow process of re-engagement with the world around me. The early, more fluid sketches represent a state of ambiguity, while the later, more refined portions of the work suggest moments of clarity and reconnection, though never fully resolving the underlying sense of incompleteness.
Contained within a 20x20cm square and life-sized, each work invites the viewer to engage intimately with this journey of self-exploration. The small scale, coupled with the focus on a single half of the face, draws attention to the internal nature of the experience, while the concept of liminality suggests that identity is never fixed, but always in transition—caught between different stages of understanding, between who we were, who we are, and who we may become.
The Threshold of Self series seeks to capture this delicate balance between engagement and withdrawal, offering a meditation on the experience of living in a liminal space—where one is neither fully here nor fully there, and where the process of self-discovery remains unfinished, ever-evolving. It is an attempt to give form to the quiet, complex space between the known and the unknown, the seen and the unseen, the present and the absent.
As life becomes increasingly complex, there are times when I feel disconnected from my own experience, as if operating on autopilot or drifting through the motions. The shift from light sketch to greater detail in each painting mirrors this tension between disconnection and the slow process of re-engagement with the world around me. The early, more fluid sketches represent a state of ambiguity, while the later, more refined portions of the work suggest moments of clarity and reconnection, though never fully resolving the underlying sense of incompleteness.
Contained within a 20x20cm square and life-sized, each work invites the viewer to engage intimately with this journey of self-exploration. The small scale, coupled with the focus on a single half of the face, draws attention to the internal nature of the experience, while the concept of liminality suggests that identity is never fixed, but always in transition—caught between different stages of understanding, between who we were, who we are, and who we may become.
The Threshold of Self series seeks to capture this delicate balance between engagement and withdrawal, offering a meditation on the experience of living in a liminal space—where one is neither fully here nor fully there, and where the process of self-discovery remains unfinished, ever-evolving. It is an attempt to give form to the quiet, complex space between the known and the unknown, the seen and the unseen, the present and the absent.
Fragments of a Beginning (2024)
Fragments of a Beginning, inspired by a single, nostalgic photograph from my kindergarten days, explores memory, identity, and the evolution of my artistic self. The image, a snapshot of me painting at an easel, evokes a sense of innocence and curiosity—the foundation of my creative journey.
Each painting represents a distinct fragment of that moment, capturing not just the literal details, but the subtle, perhaps subconscious, connections I have with my past and present.
The first piece, isolates a youthful expression, frozen in time. It's an exploration of the self—the moment before I fully understood the language of visual art. There is a certain vulnerability in the half-face, a fragment of identity that has since been shaped and redefined.
The cardigan, the second piece, is an emblem of comfort and warmth, the soft textures of memory that shape how we perceive ourselves over time. It's a symbol of family, of home, and of an era in my life that remains woven into the fabric of my current creative process.
The third, my shoes, represents the quiet grounding of childhood. These shoes, humble yet distinctive, anchor me to the past—both physically and metaphorically. They remind me of the beginnings of movement, both in life and in my artistic practice, and the delicate balance between where I’ve come from and where I’m going.
Finally, the painting on the easel, is both a literal and metaphorical reference. In recreating the scene of the photo, I’m not just revisiting a past version of myself, but also reflecting on my ongoing relationship with the act of creating.
This series is a personal reckoning, a celebration of beginnings, and an ongoing exploration of how memories shape and inform the artist I am today.
Each painting represents a distinct fragment of that moment, capturing not just the literal details, but the subtle, perhaps subconscious, connections I have with my past and present.
The first piece, isolates a youthful expression, frozen in time. It's an exploration of the self—the moment before I fully understood the language of visual art. There is a certain vulnerability in the half-face, a fragment of identity that has since been shaped and redefined.
The cardigan, the second piece, is an emblem of comfort and warmth, the soft textures of memory that shape how we perceive ourselves over time. It's a symbol of family, of home, and of an era in my life that remains woven into the fabric of my current creative process.
The third, my shoes, represents the quiet grounding of childhood. These shoes, humble yet distinctive, anchor me to the past—both physically and metaphorically. They remind me of the beginnings of movement, both in life and in my artistic practice, and the delicate balance between where I’ve come from and where I’m going.
Finally, the painting on the easel, is both a literal and metaphorical reference. In recreating the scene of the photo, I’m not just revisiting a past version of myself, but also reflecting on my ongoing relationship with the act of creating.
This series is a personal reckoning, a celebration of beginnings, and an ongoing exploration of how memories shape and inform the artist I am today.