About the artist:

It is only through the emergence of the sculptural present that a correspondence to my world is found. Here, sailing without a compass is permanent and only when the inner and outer eye are in harmony can warmth and cold reconcile.

Up high and then, in childhood, shelter in the heights of the trees...always about to fall. Counting the leaves...always trying to find an equivalent for a misunderstood world and then, in a brief moment, a form is found that can stay.

If you don't agree with me, it doesn't matter...Only what exists in my fleshly house is still real...that's what I wanted to tell you...And now you....