ABOUT

Washing Hearts invited people to meet at the threshold—neighbor to neighbor, heart to heart. Installed in a storefront window like a portal from another time, the piece created a space for conversation, care, and mutual witnessing.

Throughout the evening, I engaged in one-on-one dialogues with participants, speaking openly about memories, longing, migration, dreams, and daily tenderness. As we spoke, I washed a real pig heart—its presence raw, undeniable, intimate. Each heart was then hung from a clothesline, a gesture that held both domestic familiarity and quiet reverence.

The act was simple but layered: to wash a heart while holding someone’s story is to recognize that damage does not end us—it reshapes us. Like the human heart, which compensates when broken, we too adapt in our own flawed, beautiful ways.

Rooted in my immigrant experience and artistic practice of embracing rupture, material, and contradiction, Washing Hearts blurred the line between the personal and the collective. It turned a window into a mirror. A heart into a conversation. A conversation into a small, shared act of liberation.