»Someone other than I might have used the word “roots”. It is not part of my vocabulary. I don’t like the word, and I like even less the image it conveys. Roots burrow into the ground, twist in the mud, and thrive in darkness; they hold trees in captivity from their inception and nourish them at the price of blackmail: ”Free yourself and you’ll die!”
Trees are forced into resignation; they need their roots. Men do not. We breathe light and covet the heavens. When we sink into the ground, we decompose. The sap of our native soil does not flow upwards from our feet to our heads; we use our feed only to walk. What matters to us are roads. Roads convey us from poverty to wealth or back to poverty, from bondage to freedom or to a violent death. […]
Roads, unlike trees, do not sprout from the ground wherever the seeds happen to fall. Like us, they have origins—illusory origins, since roads don’t have real starting points.« from the book Origins by Amin Maalouf
The woods are a place of meditation. The meditation that is looking for inner peace where creativity is born.
A painter with different spatial keys creates the perception of the object and space in two dimensions. Sculptural work, however, is created by shaping the volume that we experience both visually and tangibly. At the same time, space is formed as its envelope or component of the composition.
The starting point of the sculpture of the trees is a drawing, a completely flat surface of geometric shapes. By placing the shapes into space, overlaying them, and choosing perspective and the colour of the sheet, the three-dimensionality is steadily enhanced by overlapping.
With the light and shadows formed the world is hidden between illusion and reality.