Paper Skins starts with a simple act: soaking newspaper until the stories dissolve. What remains is pulp, fiber, ink residue, water. This is piped by hand onto parchment in patterns, dried, and peeled off. The result is a series of thin, rigid skins, each holding a different pattern: web, grid, wave, crack, spiral. The parchment underneath keeps the ghost of each pattern, pressed in, barely there. The work is about what survives material transformation, not the news, not the text, but pattern. Displayed as a grid, the skins and their imprints together make an archive of what the hand remembers when information is gone.
