Bleeding Pages is a reflection on a transition many of us have quietly witnessed the gradual shift from printed books to digital formats. Born in the year 2000, I find myself part of a generation that grew up between two worlds. I remember the feel of paper, the sound of turning pages, the physical presence of a book, but I also came of age alongside the rise of screens, e-books, and endless scroll.

This work doesn’t aim to critique either side. It simply observes a change that is still unfolding. The torn and stained pages in the piece are not meant to mourn or celebrate, but to mark something that is in motion. They represent a way of interacting with information and stories that once felt permanent and now feels increasingly rare.

For many people in my generation, there is a quiet awareness of this shift. We carry memories of paper while living in a digital present. We remember borrowing library books, underlining with pencils, scribbling in margins experiences that are slowly becoming less common. Bleeding Pages captures that sense of being in-between. Not fully on one side or the other, but right in the middle of a cultural and technological evolution.

This piece is not a statement, it’s a moment. A way to pause and look closely at how we hold, access, and relate to stories. It invites the viewer to consider how formats shape experiences, and how transitions leave traces. acrylic to symbolize the pain of books in a world where they are consumed rather than cherished. The red paint represents bleeding, reflecting how mass consumption affects the value and meaning of literature.