When All I Had Was Stars explores the relationship between space, time, memory, and isolation. When we look into the night sky, we are never seeing the universe exactly as it exists in the present. Light takes time to reach us. A star seen from Earth is an image of an earlier moment. In some cases years, centuries, or much longer in the past.

I became interested in how closely this resembles memory. When we remember a person, a place, or an earlier version of ourselves, we are experiencing an image of something that is no longer happening. In both cases, distance separates us from the original moment, yet something from it continues to reach us.

Growing up, the night sky became a source of comfort for me. During periods when I felt alone, I would often look up at the moon and the stars. Years later, after briefly studying physics in university, before leaving to pursue art, I found myself returning to the same ideas through image-making: black holes, event horizons, dark matter, gravitational distortion, and the strange relationship between space and time.

The works treat cosmic phenomena less as scientific illustrations and more as emotional structures. Space becomes memory. Distance becomes time. Light becomes evidence that something was once there.