I stand firmly with one foot in the past. It doesn’t weigh me down and it doesn’t stop me, on the contrary. I like to connect with what was, see what is and peek at how it can possibly be. I sink, I set, I descend into human history without explanations and wisdom. What is the difference between a new time and the next new time or before? What does contemporary mean in our time? How now? Which contemporary is that currently contemporary? Water under the bridge, snow of yesteryear, tomorrow’s myths. You construct modern chambers of wonder. You use thoughts and symbolism, mythology and rubbish, the archaic and the fictional. You are the builder of a contemporary cabinet of curiosities, a today’s wunderkammer out of memories and signposts, from all possible materials and media, and viewing this wunderkammer of yours leads solely and in nothing else than – questions.
And that’s good.

It is not elitist, not tyrannical, not superficial, not modern. It is so honest and respectful. I like questions. Good questions should absolutely remain unanswered. The next good question is already waiting. You put work to work and a labyrinth of questions arises. You compose character by character, symbol and symbol, a trail is created that I am free to follow, but you do not give any direction and there is no signpost. So I have to compose myself and every new work changes the dynamics, my dynamics, my question, my perception and I don’t know much, and then suddenly I don’t know anything anymore, and it’s all very much, too much, you just don’t stop, I’m losing my bearings, it’s all about what? diversity becomes eclecticism becomes cacophony, where can I rest here? so I’m just concentrating on myself, my breath, your breath, I’ve forgotten everything – questions transcend and fizz. And I only know one thing:

It does not stop. It just doesn’t stop.
Please do not stop.