The objects I’ve created are my response to the pandemic and an attempt to understand the medicalization of my daily life. From pills to procedures, there is a danger of overmedicalization. By streamlining the aesthetic, cleanliness and trust is promoted, but what is often lost is the patient’s humanity. My project aims to reclaim the aesthetic of medicine in order to have a more personal experience with it.




The object’s materiality is directly related to the narrative. We are currently in a materials desert and I have used only things that I am able to access in solitary isolation—a much more extreme version of the lockdown that everyone else is experiencing. I begin with the most abundant material: time. The ritual of preparing medications elongates the process of taking medicine and creates space to question and reflect upon the value of healthcare systems, as well as individual health. From the length of our hair to our the growth of our fingernails, we are acutely aware of our bodies changing in isolation. Would our experience of medicine be different if we became more conscious of its transformative abilities?




The bottles and new ‘pills’ are crafted using glasswork techniques with sugar, creating a unique bespoke vessel every time. This process is slow and labor intensive, requiring vigilant surveillance to ensure that the sugar is prepared properly for molding and casting into the desired shapes. The fact that they are made from sugar means they are both edible and will degrade over time. Because of the amount they are handled, particularly the drinking glass that holds water, the pieces will only last a week.




I acknowledge the impracticality of grinding down cutting-edge medications, mixing them up with sugar, and curating them in a cardboard box. It is by fully embracing this absurdity, however, where deconstructing and rebuilding the almost thoughtless action of taking a pill takes on new value.






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