I often wonder what something resembles.
Do things really have a reference point? And if they do, what is a flower when I envision it in my imagination and see tiny legs instead of pistils?
The process of creation is like a portal of transformations that turns a supposed objective reality into dissenting realities; those that free us from the binary relationship between an object and its meaning, thus freeing us from the boundary proposed by sun, moon, rose or daisy. When we let ourselves be led by our imagination we open up to other layers of possibilities. An unknown universe unfolds where something no longer resembles anything. I see art making as a process of continuous trans-mutation of meaning and forms that free our minds and bodies from the conventions of resemblance.