In my work, I try to resolve issues that I couldn't resolve in any other way. From the initial idea on paper to the finished piece, I see the entire production process as a succession of metaphors; humor, materials, and patience influence me, yet nothing can be more beautiful than seeing things change and adapt to their own unique character. What could be better than, even for a moment, feeling that a certain combination of forms can give character to matter, that a new icon comes to life, to tell us a different story each time, in our own language?
Each sculpture, at some point, ceases to be an object and becomes a place, a habitable structure, completely flexible, allowing it to change shape and adapt to the occupant of the moment, offering a unique and individual analogy or translation of reality. On the one hand, the idea that these structures are habitable and can offer us a familiar and seemingly safe refuge brings peace, but inevitably we will discover that it is just another layer, another manifestation, one thing representing another, profound, sequential, and infinite, which leaves us once again destitute and exposed.
This duality generates a vibration or wave that compels me to continue naming or creating with the collected material, sometimes blindly but always with the intention of feeling my own smile, solitary and sincere, even though neither I nor anyone else can see it in the darkness.
Communicating faithfully is an impossible undertaking. Certain agreed-upon norms or parameters lead us to believe that we can understand other people or put ourselves in their shoes for a moment; however, we are islands, constantly receiving messages in an indecipherable language. All that remains is to replace the symbols with any known word, giving some meaning to the sentence, to believe (and I mean "believe" in the most mystical sense of the word) that we understand what we perceive.
Communicating faithfully is an impossible task. This, for me, is not a pessimistic view, since I don't think understanding is important, but rather interpreting; I believe that to a large extent, what makes us unique individuals is our "failure" in communication.
Without the need to translate, there would be no need to create or believe.
From birth, we instinctively begin to seek a way to represent reality, to adjust it to our frequency, and within that mechanism, to construct. In the creative process, this same mechanism is repeated; the finished work will never be what was intended, since it ceased to be so not just once, but several times during the constant "filters." Actually, "filter" isn't the correct term. A filter lets some things through and not others; what really happens is that nothing is left behind. Things don't remain behind, but rather change and transform, as in almost all natural and physical processes.
Once the sculpture is finished, it will stop mutating, no longer driven by the initial will of the artist. This doesn't mean, however, that it will stop mutating and being renamed according to the space and moment in which it is observed.
