Some departures do not happen in stations, airports, or along roads.
They happen inside us.
In The Weight of Goodbye, the figure appears suspended in the exact moment when a life divides into a before and an after. The body is fractured into visual fragments, as though memory itself can no longer hold a complete image of what has been lost.
The suitcase beneath her becomes more than an object. It is a monument to everything that cannot be packed, carried, or recovered: unfinished conversations, altered futures, and the invisible residue of human connection.
Above her, a distant face lingers like an echo refusing to disappear. It is not clear whether it belongs to a lover, a memory, or a version of herself left behind. The ambiguity is intentional. The work speaks to anyone who has experienced the strange persistence of absence.
Rather than depicting departure, the piece captures the gravity that remains after it.
Some people leave. Some never truly do.