Some artworks politely stay within their borders.
This one… absolutely refuses.
So You Think You Can Contain Me began as a playful experiment in boundaries, only to grow into a full-blown rebellion. Sycamore bark, with its natural flair for drama and escape artistry, stretches and curls beyond the edges of not one but two frames—leaning out, pushing through, and asserting that containment was never an option.
Threaded lines—stitched in free-motion embroidery—climb, twist, and wander like living things, choosing their own paths with stubborn confidence. Meanwhile, the sculpted Fabric Tyvek emerges in shimmering gold-green layers, punctured by clusters of machine-sewn openings that resemble breathing spaces, breakaway points, or tiny windows insisting on possibility.
Together, these materials behave like a chorus of misfits united by a single belief:
growth doesn’t happen by staying inside the lines.
This piece asks the viewer to consider how often we try to box ourselves in—out of habit, comfort, or someone else’s expectation—and what might happen if we let the edges fall away. When bark can burst through its borders, when thread refuses to stay in straight lines, when Tyvek can become terrain… maybe the boundaries we think are fixed are actually invitations.
In the end, the artwork doesn’t just break the frame.
It laughs at it.
Softly, mischievously, and with a shimmer of gold.
