NIGHT - Katina 15˚10'32''E, 44˚32'8''N Sculpture

Night at island Katina 15˚10'32''E, 44˚32'8''N PATH Day is turning into evening. I sit down at the edge of a cliff. There are birds in the nearby bushes, in front of me only sea and an infinite void. The silent vastness of the horizon in all its might. Although perfect quiet so I can hear my body, I can sense a sound from beyond the horizon, some sort of soft vibration. A growing certainty there is something behind the horizon (but not, according to the map, Italy). It appears everything is but a veil, slowly falling off. A mist betraying now something and then something. As if the space itself was opening while above, a much vaster, unfathomable breadth is about to unveil its placid, glorious glow. It doesn't merely promise to liberate us from our confines, it is about to change our entire lives. ​Basement. Squatting on the floor, I am piecing together forgotten fragments onto the canvas. I cut out an opening to provide the nascent image with a modicum of space. I am gluing and coating it with paper. Then I am slowly adding colour to the glue and the tiny detritus. First the dark and the grey that connect the relief into a cohesive body. Layer after layer, the colours and fragments interweave. In some places, the body of the painting is becoming homogenous, in others - due to the number of layers - riddled with tiny holes and other quite extraordinary spaces. I am now applying blue. First layer, then the second... The beforehand obvious concreteness is being somehow negated by the blue, as if everything is levitating within a new space while in the very middle, there yawns a sudden depth. It is inviting, not unlike a broad landscape. But it is no longer the depth of the horizon, it is rather my own space - a space I have yet to enter. I believe this is where I'm headed. More thoughts about authors works on: