Paper
Creativity is eternal and shouldn't be confused with creation. It does not improve with practice. Nothing about it can be owned, claimed, or held.

What is genuinely creative moves when the artist is quiet or absent. Within him there is an emptiness, pregnant with possibilities, pushing itself out through expression. When he loosens his grip, the work arrives of its own accord, as if from depths which surpass authorship. He is created by the work, though he is always a human being first. The artist is not necessarily created in any fundamental sense; his work is not evidence of specialness

Creation seems to be a mere movement that uses people without sanctifying them.

Photo
Looking and seeing imply a desire to enter into something, to inhabit it. Yet too often this desire turns out to be mere curiosity, and even before crossing the threshold, we find ourselves helplessly on the outside, feeling somewhat sheepish, as reason has replaced both our senses and our spirits as the principal means of comprehending an elsewhere that has become colder and ever more remote.

What remains is an abstract form of understanding that no longer requires presence.

Reality is precluded from us because the world appears to be entangled in our very pointing. In pointing, we produce truths about the world, while the real remains what is there, whether we understand it or not, like the eye that grounds our sight but is itself unseen.

The moment we began believing that the world we see is all there is—that the world is its own meaning rather than an image of something deeper—we lost the sense that it points beyond itself.

Photography mirrors this crisis of seeing, fracturing the immediacy between observer and observed. Thus, what has become important is not the seeing but perhaps the observation of the instrument that is looking.

Seeing clearly is only a function of the degree of resolution you choose to apply to the encounter. I'm not interested in certainties. I'm interested in the shape of things that speak to me as real.

Sculpture
How can a human being, enslaved by language, experience something that is not linguistic? Speaking already presupposes a distance from what is happening. We mistake the structure of the world for the structure of our language.

What is sought here can be found neither in thinking nor intuition; goosebumps come closer to it than the retina.  At the end of words, we must journey toward something not yet a word, something that does not exist unless it is embodied, and that is all the more present the less it is known.

The artist fashions toys that provoke unexpected collisions of disparate phenomena in the mind of the observer. There is a purpose in view, even if no certain destination exists.