For me, art is not about beauty or the perfection of form, it is the artist’s will to submit to the labor, the weight, and the discipline required to turn an idea into something tangible. It is the effort to make a thought visible.
In that sense, art becomes an act of performance — not only about how something looks, but about the act of making itself. The artist gives self to the work so much so he or she becomes a part of it. Whether or not others find it beautiful is irrelevant. What matters is that the artist created something. A thought has been transformed into matter.
Photography, too, belongs to that process. Each photograph begins as an act of seeing and ends as an act of knowing — of myself, of time, of what resists being held. To photograph is to suspend a moment of recognition. A fragile instant when seeing becomes a kind of quiet ecstasy. Every print made afterwards is a return to that first sensation, an attempt to hold again what has already slipped into memory. To reconnect and to connect with others.
I oscillate between observing the outer world to understand my inner one, and then returning outward again — to see more clearly what lies within.