“Some time ago, I came to understand that I have no roots, only legs.

I do not have ‘a place in the world,’ as Castaneda once said…

I belong nowhere — and no place belongs to me.

What interests me are our relationships: between human beings, and between them and other forms of life.

But, evidently, my relationship with myself and with everything I experience.

Then, there is the physical space of the canvas — the place where I configure all these emotions.

I work through construction and deconstruction, through the exhaustion of the image.

I constantly need to return, to make and remake,

to draw and erase, then redraw; paint and repaint; redraw and repaint…

the canvas becomes thick…

Time and scale play a fundamental role,

reconfiguring the relationship with the viewer.

My work is cyclical: cycles return.

My practice is organized in series, some of which unfold over many years,

remaining open, always in motion.

They behave like germinal nuclei that multiply,

aggregate, and develop.

The passage of time is a process of decantation.

Walking is the right speed for understanding.

The figure is only a temporary and reductive mask

placed over the groundlessness of human passions.

In this context, how can one present a unified, stable,

defined — and therefore finished — human figure,

when the human being, in its essence, is a chaos of feelings and emotions?

How can one paint this “tragic” aspect of the human condition?

How can the figure account for its own instability?

How can we grasp what exceeds any measure of value?

The essential resists all forms of formatting

and insists on inscribing itself onto the canvas.

It is the expression of fundamental human emotions

that escapes all order and measure,

all limits, definitions, figures, or circumscription —

an infinite depth within the canvas.”