I genuinely believe in a balanced, solid and pure art, absolved of eccentric expression and sophisticated form. We do not have to agonize over fashion or struggle to impress, but rather pursue what is genuinely different, the emotion and the truth, the only genuine mother of the revelation and the new. The line, the color, the form, the shape, the space, even the coincidental need to delicately balance on a tight rope in order to be able to express the eternal mystery of life and death. Technique and rules, precious tools in the genesis of works of art however, they are transformed into a two-edged knife when they serve only themselves. On the contrary, through intellect and feeling, they allow the creator to arrange and synthesize chaos, thus transforming the finite dimension of the visible world and life into spiritual and transcendental. It is this transformation that, for thousands of years, has been weaving the face of the eternal and the sacred, whether this is expressed through a painting in Lascaux caves, an ancient column, an African mask, a Byzantine icon, the Mona Lisa, Rembrandt portraits, Van Gogh sunflowers, or La Guernica.
