On the Hill. victim Sculpture

I use ordinary materials, not special in any way, clearly categorized from our everyday point of view. I touch them, form them, insert them into clear and common relations, proportions, stories which turn grey as soon as I leave them. Indolent communicators, objects waiting to be touched, waiting for a more fixed stare to penetrate through the rational structure of a specific place, demarcated and observed with the currents of experience, into unknown structures and rasters unobserved by the knowledgeable roundness of the three dimensions. We are still in this our piece of real, we never take that step beyond the frontiers of our existence. Is there not concealed behind all this diurnal mull of our live’s, the tedium, behind that which we do not yet know, behind that which that which is not known to us, behind that which we will never know, a lucid, simple, pure order?