Entering the exhibition space, you see young girls living in worlds of their own through windows in form of mounted frames. They are alone and trapped, floating on a textured surface like a never-ending space. The background gives us no suggestions on their actual surroundings. They seem immobile and uncommunicative. The face of the subject is either blacken or hidden. Their identity is undistinguished. She might bear some resemblance to someone you know.  Perhaps you could see yourself in them. 

People are in constant need of contact. Connections. However, most of us are too scared to reach out – in case we get hurt. I am the only real friend I could ever have, the only one I will never loose. I step forward, and the tip of my nose feels the cold in the mirror and I fall.

We are all alone.