I’ve always been interested by the poetry of neglected shipyards, ugly railway sidings and wasteland, places of desolation and neglect. Because I knew inside of me that the outer world does not support us in continuity, the street is full of heterogeneous things, but we are helped in continuity by the unconscious, this inner order is the foundation of our psyche. Everything seems to come with bewildering in consequence from all its various layers….
This what my whole conceptual life is about ….lines drawn until they fade and fuse with the surface, creating spatial depth and this process of adding layers exploits these abstract interpretations of movement, sound, mutability and evanescent light. It is an investigation of our surrounding….exactly the way one must understand his own darkness/ light and complexity. Nothing in us ever remains quite uncontradicted.
The task of art is to transform what is continuously happening to us, to transform all these things into symbols, into music, into something which can last in man’s memory. That is our duty. If we don’t fulfill it, we feel unhappy. A writer or any artist has the sometimes joyful duty to transform all that into symbols. These symbols could be colors, forms or sounds. For a poet, the symbols are sounds and also words, fables, stories, poetry. The work of a poet never ends. It has nothing to do with working hours. Your are continuously receiving things from the external world. These must be transformed, and eventually will be transformed. This revelation can appear anytime. A poet never rests. He’s always working, even when he dreams. Besides, the life of a writer, is a lonely one. You think you are alone, and as the years go by, if the stars are on your side, you may discover that you are at the center of a vast circle of invisible friends whom you will never get to know but who love you. And that is an immense reward. ― Jorge Luis Borges