I burned the barn down
 

I visited a burnt barn on a hill and picked up a book. The book was burnt and had been collected in fragments and bound together to keep its shape as a book. It is entitled The Empty Quarter and focuses on the major theme of ‘our substance and our organic nature’ and describes the journey of a sculptor and his assistant through the desert.

We balance our sensibility and reason with our intellect in a return to the “to hen” . We pick up the fragments of our existence by tracing deep into our reminiscences, leaving little snippets of the present individual in the past, while at the same time losing nothing and proceeding on a parallel journey with ourselves, still lost in the haze.

As clues to our progress, we rely on the sensorium that we can observe with our organs, in other words, we use the impressions as a medium to sublimate our fantasies of memory into metaphysical imaginings.
As a sculptor, I also take what is and materialise it in me. But they are not always extroverted. They have substance, but they keep transforming. I interpret, appropriate, and sometimes even adapt them, while continuing to create something that transcends its essence. It is a voyage as endless as this desert journey, but there is a momentary gratification when something relative to the environment is replaced by something eternal and immutable, and although it does not move, it nevertheless functions in an organic manner. The sensation we get from this is one of a beautiful intuition, passive and euphoric, like a daydream, and it can keep negativity away, which is something we need in modern life.

It is then preserved as part of nature, like our immortal soul and our changing bodies. I hope so.
The memories to be retained, petrified as they are, should not be left behind in a corner of emptiness.