In Pre-Mortem, I turn to the clear plastic bag—an object both mundane and menacing—as a symbol of the suffocating weight of human negligence. Encasing my body within this transparent shroud and placing it amid fragile landscapes, I embody the silent, slow violence we inflict upon creation, and ultimately upon ourselves.

This work is rooted in both lament and prayer. It draws on the spirit of Laudato Si’, Pope Francis' urgent call for an "ecological conversion," where care for the earth is understood not only as a scientific or political matter, but as a profound spiritual obligation. The plastic cocoon becomes a modern relic of our disconnection—a physical manifestation of the ways we have severed our relationship with the Creator and with the living world entrusted to us.

The imagery speaks to entrapment, contamination, and the dulling of conscience. It echoes a deeper reality: pollution is not merely a technical failure, but a moral wound, a rupture of the sacred trust between humanity and creation. The concept of a pre-mortem—a practice of anticipating failure to avert disaster—becomes here a spiritual exercise: a moment to confront the trajectory we are on, to repent, and to choose a different path.