My studio is a part of my consciousness. My imagined images move between them. My consciousness plays a game with my emotions. The world around my studio rolls by like a steamroller, crushing everything on its path. The love, the feeling, the beauty and the nature that surrounds us, while the music in my ears flows past me.
The rhythm, the poetic beauty of the song. Somewhere deep inside my head, it touches something. Somewhere in my consciousness, I become one with the beat of that music. Music caresses my emotions. I dream away on the waves of the sounds produced.
The paradox of feeling and reason. The difference between creativity and innovation of art. The cultural tension of the now, in which I live. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
The philosophical question could be: is it art that I make? Am I imagining that I am creating art? Or is it a part of my consciousness, which I think is a reality? Is my consciousness a fundamental condition for surviving every day? Am I living consciously? Or is it just my emotions that keep me going?
The steamroller continues to roll. When I look at the trail it leaves behind, I sometimes lose heart. In the distance, the rumble of the all-crushing steamroller disappears. I can’t stop it. Curious. Sometimes the steamroller is received with cheers. However, when he has passed…
