Dukiewicz’s sculptures are full of earth — and therefore, full of life. They are rolled up, wrapped in a gesture of embrace — an embrace that longs to enfold the entire earth, to protect life, to hold memory. A warm, circular gesture: to pick up a piece of land, wrap it gently, make it visible in its simplicity. To present it, while honoring its true nature.

The earth becomes a seal of identity — a surface of granules, seeds, organisms, teeming with invisible lives. Layers of history that do not speak aloud, but whisper. It is the ground we walk on, changing subtly with each step, and yet always there — sensing us, seeing us, receiving us.

The cut pieces of sod resemble fresh graves — modest, silent, and intimate. They evoke loss, absence, and the act of remembering. Yet they are not static memorials. Dukiewicz carefully documents how these living surfaces — freshly torn from the land — are slowly reclaimed by nature. Grass re-sprouts, roots knit the soil again. What was severed begins to mend. And as the visible scars fade, so too do the traces of memory. A quiet erosion of presence. The tension between preservation and forgetting.

This is the earth that sustains an inexhaustible circulation of matter: the cycle of life.

Dukiewicz cuts and sews the earth with threads gathered from her family home, stitching together a connection across distance and time. As an expatriate artist, she seeks through these gestures to preserve familial bonds, to recover and commemorate maternal land. The result: grass-covered pillars that stand as monuments — quiet tributes to life, memory, and roots.

On the opposite wall, rhythmic compositions made from spruce needles are delicately arranged and glued directly to the walls. Their lines trace patterns that echo musical notation, scars, or natural flows — fragile topographies that resist permanence. These gestures suggest breath, ritual, and the passage of time. The spruce are often associated with burial, eternal life, and healing. These compositions offer another form of touch, another rhythm of care.

Together, these works form a living archive — one that embraces material decay, regeneration, and the soft vanishing of what once was.