Every piece begins with a found material.

Old glass carries stories.

Of use and forgetting.

Of the paths it has taken.

I search for these materials deliberately –

and at the same time allow myself to be found by them.

Riverbanks.

Antique markets.

Archives of chance. 

Along the riverbank,

water, sand and time shape the glass.

At markets,

objects reveal traces of former lives.

What I collect is not rarity –

but resonance.

Not everything

needs to become.

The studio is an archive of possibilities.

Shelves filled with gathered materials

wait,

until light reveals them.

Patience is part of the process.

Technology serves poetry.

Never the other way around. 

Light is integrated discreetly.

Miniaturized.

Reduced to its essence.

It supports the material –

without dominating it.

Transformation is an act of care.

Seeing.

Sorting.

Selecting.

Decisive is coherence.

When material and light

find their balance,

the work is complete.

What has been lived

also has a right to light.

Found

material. 

Old glass.

Traces.

Time.

Not everything

needs to become.

Materials wait –

until light 

reveals them.

But that happens

elsewhere.