One of my hearts is in architecture, another in sculpture, a third in books and a last born in writing. They developed as separate tracks, sprouted from an education in painting and a subsequent demise for the love of colored fields.
I have been observing the urban landscape, with its eclectic built forms, its migration of discarded objects and the metro system as the city’s intestines. These observations are a continuous nourishment, to be digested and discharged into objects, texts and snapshots. They live next to, on top and sometimes in one another. In search for spatial text or sculpted words, unmonumental sculptures and documents.
I have a thing for mobility, or the idea of moving, as a physical and emotional act. Things that are regarded (e)motionless, in a society in permanent vertigo.
