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If you hear soundtrack, the text under is the transcript. You'll understand I was reading, not a good loud reader here.
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In all the houses that I’ve been, of people who own statues, the following got my attention: the statues are left in the place where they fit best in the décor and can be at times looked at. From the same few angles !
In a museum one can walk around a statue, most of the time. But that’s it.
When I look at sculpture, apart from its size, the subject and details depicted, the texture expressed in a certain material, I follow the contours, innumerable as I change my position. To me they suggest a line of music, the wave of a melody that is born at the border between the sculpture and the rest of the world. For this reason, I think immovable statues have song-lines that cannot be heard. All these elements work together, transmit a certain feeling and give me various ideas.

As my sculptures are created with a home in mind (not museum pieces), I want the owner to be able to change the position of the sculpture and find new stories, hear new songs. A bit like rearranging the furniture in your home, to have a fresh feeling of living in a new place.

Knowing something about the object you are looking at is a double edged sword. On one hand you are aware of what you should be looking for (how many wheels should your car have), on the other we see what we expect to see, what we’ve seen before thus, reducing the chance of noticing the intimate story of something slightly different from our previous interactions with similar objects.
That being said, here’s my personal story with this sculpture. If, by looking at it before reading the following you had a complete mind construct, no need to feel you have missed something.
Stone for me is associated to the mountain: solid, heavy, majestic like an ocean wave captured in stone; yet even mountains move.
From the mountain springs the water which flows down onto the world, waving, carving stone, carving landscape. The hand here is about to penetrate a new territory, fingers about to open a new canyon ahead.
The mountain hides in his belly the jewels. Man keeps his evolutionary jewels hidden too, protected. The man is what the man is and also what you think he is, hence the masked face.

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