When people see my sculptures they are surprised by the unusualness of the material, some see it as mud and trash, the vast majority see poetry, others see what we are made of, I like it when people say “They are alive!” projection of their emotions and beliefs in material as humble as the raw earth seems to me a window to compassion and respect for life, all life.
In some parts of the planet the soil is so damaged, polluted, that no plants or flowers grow anymore, in these places my sculptures are very valuable, not so much for the art, but because the mud/clay I use is virgin, fertile soil; what is paradoxical is that perhaps one day these earth sculptures will be jealously guarded in a museum of natural history of the planet and not in an art museum.
The transmutation of consciousness has beauty when respect happens to places, flora and fauna that are the balance of our own lives.
On the ground floor of my art studio, on top of the main door there is a window I have a piece of fusing glass that measures 2′ x 2′ x 1/2″, after 3 p.m. a beautiful light enters that changes intensity until it disappears when the sun is hidden. On cement and wood walls I have built different levels of shelves to place books, containers with brushes and spatulas, also in the high parts of the shelves I have sculptures in process, rolls of paper with drawings and sketches. The main work table is 3’ high and a surface of 4’x4′, the objects and materials that move on the table are always changing, cohabiting and saying goodbye with drills, flexometers, screws and tool boxes that go up and down, Sometimes, the table fills so much with a lot of stuff that it is necessary to clarify and decide, as we do with thoughts [when we think].
In the process of creation there are no rules, sometimes that apparent chaos is necessary, one night can be enough to turn all the elements, everything can happen at the same time: the crying, the madness, the joy, the love and a sculpture is born.
Coral pieces of recycled metal, computer parts, appliance parts, dried leaves, barks, sea shells, wooden blocks, maps of different cities stapled on the walls and some important publication or upcoming commitment on striking color paper, a piece of broken ceramic plate that I found in a bazaar, which has a truly inspiring grape painting on it. On the highest shelf, a 2’ tall woman-sculpture sits on a cube, has a crossed leg, while her arms rest, her neck keeps her head firmly erect with her gaze fixed on the distant horizon of the sea visible through the window.