These works begin with found vintage photographs purchased from flea markets—anonymous family images once held close, later discarded, circulated, and detached from the lives they once belonged to. I do not restore them in order to preserve their original certainty. Instead, I intervene through distortion, repetition, displacement, and rupture. Faces multiply, bodies bend, scenes stretch, and memory loses its stable surface. What was once documentary becomes unstable again. The red ground surrounding each piece is not decorative space. It suggests exposure, heat, intimacy, tension, and loss. It asks the viewer to confront these people, their fading memory, and the struggle to remember lives that risk disappearing as if they had never existed. By working with discarded personal photographs, I am not trying to recover the people in them. I am asking what remains when private memory becomes public matter, and how images continue to carry presence after their original owners are gone.