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The moment I decided to study art is unclear. I would be conceited to think that I was destined to this life-style, given that at well-deserved times I gave it a second thought. Nonetheless, and since I had use of reason, I knew that the only possible job in my life would be meant to satisfy my own whim, before that of others. I could have been independent in any other field, but it is also true that manual work (mechanics, bricolage, construction, and destruction) always caught my attention. As the structure of my system is simple, I constantly avoid tri-dimensional thinking and often turn to two dimensions. I always liked fiction, but the uncontrollable anxiety of writing moved me away from the trade of the writer. Mathematics has never been my thing, and the truth is that I always tend to divergence and not much to convergence. I knew, however, that I like the image, and, because I knew I liked it so much, I decided to study art.


Now, I dedicate myself to making objects, to playing with forms in space, without taking time into account. I collect ideas and give them a presence within spatial frames; I generate pieces that help me construct manageable and affable life discourses. I know that all those objects are a result of a crash between ideas and senses (strange moment called life) but I also know that they are more than that: objects, representations, ghosts of the discourse. I distrust what I do many times, and I think of the limitations of human production, even though I find the possibility of “creating” something exquisite. Surely, my obsessions are present in my work, even if I don’t identify them either easily nor frequently. Sometimes, I let loose my doing and unexpected things emerge from thinking. Sometimes, I contain imagination and become diligent in the proceeding. Other times, I conform to an idea and do nothing.


The materials I work with come up from necessity and few times prime in my creative process. I address every occurrence in a particular manner, and that is why disparity frequents my production. It may be that my works don’t converge anywhere, which is why I have recommended myself to close cycles periodically. I think that each project approaches from a different periphery to a center that I cannot clearly define. My process of thinking can be disorganized and naïve –it is silent and does not like to be pronounced- but my methods of production compare to those of an engineer. Before being good, I intend for my work to be honest and transparent.




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