There are no theories, just movement.
Flying bee creates growth and honey. Energy circulates. Abandoned house was once new. At the courtyard some apple trees are still in bloom. Suddenly blue ortolan takes the fly.
Wandering around the marks of civilization with the knowledge of the existential passion. Observing how life passes the concrete and control. Challenging the body to serve between satisfaction and pain. That is my chase for the bubble, the goal of labour when delivering art. I have noticed that long touch opens the thoughts. Hands handle the fragility and the strength of material. Time continues and ends. Something moves. Twisting items makes a different balance. Be patience or run?
I search visual intensity, seduction, the rhythm. How to find an eatable berry from the cacophony? Can one see? One must sense somehow. Why does the Dna battle between order and disorder? Why are we amused by a plain line or a spot and why do the words control contemporary art? I produce overwhelming handmade ornament ribbons as the side products of thinking. They are meant to lure to wa(wo)under.
Antonin Artaud talked about flesh. If it is not touched, the art is fallen. His conceptual point was clear. As a person who was raised by wrestlers and a strict classical music school I understand what he said. Something can pass the body and tremble the mind, no less with beauty as Hilma af Klint did. What comes after is interesting. Will the happening reach the rational deliberation and vice versa? Even, are the both sides necessary? In order to move something with dignity, I believe yes.
My methods are chosen around hands and technology. Primate human race needs the two. The beginning is shooting photos while walking anonymously around cities and forests. The aim is to hunt being and convert the found symptoms to symbols. The compositions are sketched digitally. But finally starts the manual work - long lasting and time stopping. Physicality feeds thinking and the mind understands the material. This sensual engineering creates the objects and opens the paths behind the next corner. Control flows with control with flow.
North is full of black and white. And between lives the color. Every moment counts.