Bunkum is a place of looping memories and experiences, each person contains their own private stories and each road leads back to itself, shaped by emotion and memories. In Bunkum, memory is unreliable. I doesn't matter what happened, but how it is carried. Every resident of  Bunkum is shaped by trauma. It never arrived as one dramatic event, it came slowly. It became worry, self doubt, over thinking, internal chatter, and a lasting feeling that something is wrong. Confidence fades slowly, the mind repeats itself without rest, identity in Bunkum is never stable. It is worn down by anxiety, changed by the need to survive, and rebuilt again every morning. People become versions of themselves that are temporary and fragile. Growth could happen, but it is slow, uncomfortable and filled with doubt. Every day is like every other day.  They move through routines that feel automatic. There is effort to connect, to listen, and to take part, they hide it, play the fool, entertain you, but concentration slips away. Interest fades. Mind becomes crowded with noise, doubt, and repetition. Sleep comes without relief.  This is an exhibition of some of my work, exploring and illustrating these ideas.