Childhood - a one-time gift from God. A unique world that is constantly evading our eyes, and whose magic of
a child's gaze is already lost. Yet I always sensed that one day I would find a suitable form to allow me to capture this world. Forever or
at least for a moment. Memory has become a powerful motor for my creative output. It allows me to evoke the imagination of my irrevocably lost childhood. A world where experience is condensed, emotion and sensation is heightened; a world which I cannot replace with anything else today. And yet it is possible to return. I close my eyes.
I return to the years when we were kids with an entire wealth of dreams, millions of ideas, the uncritical belief in our ability to do anything afforded us with ever-new desires, to climb the highest tree, discover a new land, become a king…. To cross the border between reality and fantasy - to dance for a moment in a courtly procession, dressed in a carnival costume. I open my eyelids so that, as soon as possible, I may recount a new story - to close in form the distant desires while I still remember them.
I don't pay attention to detail; I'll return to that later, tomorrow, or in couple of days, when I won't be looking back in time. There will be time for a compromise with world of spaces 4 and forms. Emotions clothed in matter must after all collide with the expectations, which I place before myself as an artist. Emotion will therefore meet with questions of composition, the common cycle denominator and the particularities of my workshop, because all of this likewise defines my creative output among other artists' work. Only sometimes do I ask myself the question, how many quotes from my childhood can fit into a bronze sculpture?