Hide Here

is a small vessel built from salvaged farming equipment, shaped into a tiny cathedral. It feels like a sacred place made from scraps—part machine, part memory. The structure is just big enough for one small person, like it was built by someone who needed to get away, or needed to believe they could.

The piece comes from a memory: being a kid, fighting with my dad, running off to the local playground and falling asleep under the jungle gym. I remember feeling scared, angry, unsure of what to do next—but also strangely safe under a large old structure. This is built from that feeling. It’s about the instinct to create shelter from whatever’s around you. To build something holy out of pain. It’s shape suggests something hopeful too—a chapel for solitude, a rocket for one. A place to be held, to breathe, to wait until it’s safe to come back.