“Predator in Lace” originated from a conversation that had nothing to do with creating a finished piece. My husband and I were talking about tattoos—about designs that interact with the body, that shift and evolve with movement, becoming something different depending on how they are seen. What fascinated me most was the idea of motifs placed in joint areas, where they already form a complete image when compressed, but transform and expand when the body stretches.
The spider entered the conversation almost casually, yet it was enough to trigger the entire process. What interested me wasn’t the creature itself, but the underlying concept: tension, control, movement, and the sense that something is never fixed but constantly capable of shifting into another form.
 
In the drawing, this idea is not translated literally but rather interpreted. The body is not just a surface for the motif—it becomes part of it. The boundaries between figure and structure dissolve, as if the motif both inhabits and overtakes the body at the same time.
The title “Predator in Lace” reflects this contradiction. Something delicate, almost ornamental at first glance, carries an underlying sense of threat. That tension between attraction and unease is what drives the piece. It is not about defining what is seen, but about capturing that moment where perception becomes uncertain.