Growing up, “Sugar Paper” was what we called the old brown exercise books used for schoolwork in my household. The name carried a sense of familiarity, tied to the moments of writing, learning, and imagination. While walking through an art store in Hamburg, Germany, I stumbled upon handmade paper that instantly brought me back
home. Its texture and imperfections reminded me of those exercise books and my enduring love for paper and writing.
 
This piece evokes the memory of sitting at a table, surrounded by the quiet hum of childhood routines—doing homework, sipping tea, and watching ants gather around a St. Louis sugar cube left on the table. The ants, ever industrious, remind me of the invisible labour and small joys that defined those moments. “Sugar Paper” bridges past and present, home and abroad. It reflects how the simplest materials—paper, sugar, bronze—can carry stories of nostalgia, community, and the beauty of the everyday.