In recent years, I have been confronted with a series of traumas that have pushed me into the room of my past. The room became a room, and I built a nest in the middle of the space. The room’s furnishings and the emotions swirling within its walls frightened me, but they were becoming more manageable. Sometimes shrinking, sometimes expanding, I finally felt at home in this dreamlike world. The work began.
I put together a selection of black and white photographs I had taken of my parents in the eighties. This series became the breeding ground for my current work. I made installations of personal objects, plexiglass, paper, wood and plaster.
I see my works as fragmentary, trying to express as precisely and densely as possible the emotion that triggered the process of creation. At the same time, they are mysterious and elusive to me, like fish.
My paintings and installations are not analyses, but rather an escape into an infinite space where everything is in motion, the elements are already gentle and helpful. In the air – because it is there – there is love, desire and empathy.
I protect myself from knowing, yet I know exactly.
All the details are personal, I already know every tree, the forest has become common.