Sugar Coated constructs a world where desire, nostalgia, and excess crystallize into landscapes both seductive and unsettling. Entirely built by hand—piped, poured, sculpted, and assembled—the environments mimic the glossy perfection of digital renderings, exposing the slippage between the real and the simulated. Childhood fantasies bloom into hyperreal terrains already tipping toward collapse.

The immersive installation begins with softness: pink plush carpet underfoot, sweet aromas, pastel clouds, and forests of gumdrops, whipped cream, melted candy, and cereal rubble. At first glance, the scenes shimmer with confectionary innocence. Yet each tableau carries a fault line—a chocolate bunny sinking into sugar-laden ground, lollipop hearts bleeding into syrup, candy forests dissolving under invisible heat. Even the cereal landscape suggests ecological drift, industrial excess, and the sedimentation of consumer culture.

At the center is a large-scale, cyclical video projection in which these crafted worlds begin to breathe, shift, and decay. Free of dialogue, the work unfolds as a hypnotic loop of seduction and dissolution, echoing contemporary cycles of shopping, scrolling, and consumption—small bursts of dopamine that slide from pleasure into exhaustion.

Sugar Coated exposes the hidden cost of manufactured happiness, revealing how desire curdles into saturation and pleasure becomes a trap. The landscapes are lush and inviting, yet always on the verge of collapse—an enchanting fantasy that mirrors the unsustainable rhythms of contemporary life: swipe, scroll, buy, discard, repeat.