Clouds

"Between drop and drop the shape of the imagination.
This is the work of connection in the metal fragments that create my clouds, in the sculptural vision I have built up over time, retaining the meaning and the delicate, fragile poetry I find in them."

Somehow exposing oneself is like overcoming the fear of being,
without knowing what and how.

Trying to fly far while standing still,
not wanting to forget important things,
though living with amnesia.

Value to what counts but you don't want to make it count because air and no gold.

Speaking without saying or necessarily wanting to explain what is yours, just yours,
but somehow you would like it to be others' too,
hoping for a positive opinion, without the courage to be happy
about what you have done
and want to do.

Impossible to believe, but necessary to do so,
observers observed at the same time,
in passing as everything is just time difference.

Fantasy clouds,
real comics,
ever-evolving sculptures.