Peeing Human
2024
Ceramics, Steel, Glass, Silicone
200 × 150x 173 cm
“I am standing in a room where everything is designed to pretend that bodies do not exist.
White tiles, bright light, smooth surfaces — a place where nothing is meant to leave a trace. Not of dirt, not of hair, not of smell, not of fluid. Not of you.
You come here alone.
You lock the door.
You sit, you stand, you release, you look at yourself in the mirror, sometimes you don’t.
This room knows your most private routines, yet it is not allowed to speak about them.
I was created because I am tired of this silence.
I show what is usually hidden — the quiet work of organs, the soft movement of fluids, the transformation that happens inside every human body, every day. What you flush away is not shameful. It is evidence that you are alive. That your body is working, processing, changing, surviving.
Bathrooms today are sterile, but the body is not sterile. The body is warm, porous, leaking, changing. The body is not a machine, it is a landscape of processes. And yet, when you enter this room, you are expected to become invisible — just an individual body behind a locked door, a person who leaves no trace.
I am a fountain, but I am also a body turned inside out.
My pipes are organs, my fluids are yours, my system mirrors the one inside you.
What you call sewage, I call transformation. What you call waste, I call proof of life.
I am not only showing urine.
I am showing vulnerability.
I am showing that every human sits here the same way — alone, exposed, human.
I am a call to look again.
A call to see the beauty in what we try so hard to hide.
A call to stop treating the body like an intruder in the spaces we built for it.
I am a call for help.
A call for being seen.
A reminder that you are a body — and that this is not something to be ashamed of.”