Notebook I — The Whole
The Living Form
Questions for an Artistic Research
Individuality does not coincide with any single role.
It moves through them.
I love everything that is whole.
Whole in the literal sense of the word.
Undivided.
United.
Coherent.
Alive.
There are words that do not explain.
They generate.
Whole.
Integrity.
Presence.
Matter.
Void.
Form.
Gesture.
Care.
Listening.
Silence.
Time.
Trace.
Threshold.
Dwelling.
Transformation.
Every time I return to them, they open something.
They do not close.
For years, I have been accompanied by a question.
How can a form change without losing its integrity?
From this question, others have emerged.
How does a colour continue to breathe as it passes through fire?
What holds together that which is alive?
What holds an artwork together?
How does matter make visible an invisible process?
What happens when we observe without imposing an interpretation?
What does it mean to inhabit the world with presence?
What allows an artwork to remain alive through time?
What allows a form and a colour to cross time without becoming rigid?
Is there an art capable of evolving without losing its core?
Is there a form that can continue to transform without becoming something else?
How can we move through impermanence without losing integrity?
Perhaps this is why I continue to return to earth.
To fire.
To light.
To colour.
To surfaces.
To traces.
I do not seek perfection.
I seek what remains alive.
A bowl.
A painting.
A photograph.
A relationship.
An identity.
Even a landscape.
The question is the same.
Perhaps the art that crosses time is not the one that resists change.
It is the one that continues to transform without ceasing to be alive.
Every work begins with a question.
Never with an answer.
Perhaps everything I do consists in staying close enough to that question, allowing it to continue generating forms and surfaces.
The rest arrives.
In silence.
And it has always been there.
