My handcraft at the work bench – That´s a waltz. I just let go: my mind, my heart, my thoughts are free.
My hands… yes and no… They are the executive power of my idea but – they are the tools of the idea, not my own. I just function, everything works by itself, it´s magical work…
My hands become masters of their trade – they hammer, braze, melt, fuse, saw, file, destroy. Do they have their own will?
It is a war dance – I watch it as an outsider. I observe my own power, I learn about my body and my mind.
The tension lasts to the very end – lost in the smallest details of my work.
My work: an apposition of coincidences and incidents firmly controlled by my hands, escorted by my emotions.
The result: the artefact, the reactions of others – every time a surprise.
My work is my freedom – there are no boundaries to creativity. Everything is possible.
My studio is my paradise and oasis in this life.
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