The light cycle of an artist

The Karst, from where I have chosen to draw my inspiration, pours into me its colours which shatter against the wall I have inside. I feel chromatic landslides, hollows of thoughts that urge to break free. This land, so rough and ferrous where the blinding white of the limestone stands out and dominates the whole environment has understood my narrative urge. There I find the matter for my works every time. I plunge my hands into the red soil and with the world I become one. The light expands again inside me.

I am born again.