Before form, tension emerges.
Matter only speaks when crossed.
.
It resists, fractures, accumulates in silence.
What appears finished is only a surface.
Beneath it lies weight, tension, collapse.
.
Nothing disappears in steel.
Every cut and fracture marks its skin.
Nothing begins as an object.
.
Everything begins with confrontation.
These are not sculptures to be contemplated.
They are fragments that open a passage.
.
Forms in the making, freed from purpose.
Between destruction and emergence, it tears itself from matter.
.
.
.THIS IS WHERE EVERYTHING BEGINS
A precense torn from matter freed from flesh.
.