“It is from fibre that all living organisms are built, the tissues of plants, leaves and ourselves… Our nerves, our genetic code, the canals of our veins, our muscles. We are fibrous structures.”
Where do my ideas come from? Sometimes from a dream that drifts into a suspended form. Sometimes, from a walk down a long, winding trail where the land teaches me rhythm and proportion. When I look up into the stars, I imagine planets spinning color around a bright orb—an ice world forming its thick white crust, and I carry that cosmology back into clay.
But my vision doesn’t end in the sky. In the flames of my inferno, I forge the magic that remains on the surface of my spheres. I study form and the way space and gravity pull the mind toward a point of reference. I plan carefully and sometimes spontaneously, allowing a whirlwind of decisions to take shape—guided by curiosity, intuition, and the intelligence of materials.
This is a landscape to explore, a vast field of the imagination, and a foundation for actualizing the concept and bringing it into the real world. Discovery is monumental even if it rests in a quiet space and retains the bold expression of gravity itself.