As a child, in bed in my child's bedroom, I would watch the specks of dust twirling slowly through the darkness, specks of light floating on the invisible sunbeam that filtered thrugh the half-closed shutters..
Later, in Provence, I came to know and love the blends and contrasts of light and shade amongst the clear rocky masses, the darkening sweep ot the trees bending in the harsh wind. The gentle feel of winter sun on my face, a softness reminiscent of the firts days of creation.
The beauty of the human form in all its aspects, enhanced by the light as it touches here and there, illuminating, casting shadows, reflections. Forms ans shapes revealing this light in turn, revealing their softness under one's touch. This is the very essence of scultpure, its secret: to toake hold of the basic material and bring the form into being, give it its corporality, guide it forth, let it become itself in one's hands. Birth and creation.