Inhaling and exhaling are the present and the past. Light and darkness are life and death. Form and content are the sense and the emotion. Statues are houses with rock-steady foundations. In my terminology, I call them Fragile Beings or, alternatively, Soulmates. They define the architecture of a safe heaven, represent a point of returns and the certainty of the permanence. Elementary, straightforward and fundamental. I can understand them, as they are ultimately and irreversibly finished. There is nothing to be added and nothing to be taken away, nothing is either missing or superfluous. There is nowhere to hide.
They carry intimate messages that need not be communicated explicitly. They are tales of sensitivity and expressions of new thoughts. They are aimed to strike a unique equilibrium of the abstract form with an inspired innermost value. Such an unambiguous, unprejudiced straightness makes one go under the surface to open their hearts and minds. You will face yourself, accept the reflection whatever it is and invest humbleness. You will stand with your eyes open towards the wide-reaching context and imagination. Statues breathe slowly as they want to slow down the rush of our condensed present-day existence. They wanted to give the words back their meanings, refill deeds with their merits. I imagine our human environment to be a living thing. It is a dear friend. We have conversations and the statues – the fragile beings – act as mediators of such reunions, knowing that the recovery of mutual respect will make it possible to understand and embrace the fundamental existential responsibility. The responsibility of friends, come light, come darkness.
Fragile beings The offspring of the creators ́ follies Born of their own blood Lonesome orphans of time dance with a stiff vitreous step So vulnerably languishing and loving far out in the distance They materialize the substance of things in thoughts While maintaining fragile mysteries in transparent souls of their graceful bodies Allusions to the excitement of the endless quest whisper tales in low voices With the sounds of the sun beyond the horizon of imagination