I collect. Not consciously, not systematically, but constantly. The play of light on a building’s facade. The colors of the sky just before a thunderstorm. A yellowed sheet of music that falls into my hands. Moods and impressions accumulate, becoming an inner reservoir from which I draw when I work.

Only by picking up a brush can one capture the essence of what has been experienced, give form to thoughts, and make them visible.

The actual process begins in the studio—without any guidelines or strict concepts. At first, I just let myself go. A first stroke of color lands on the canvas, a second follows, contradicting the first; a fragment of a memory is glued on, a line is drawn. It’s a dialogue with the material, a feeling my way, a search. Sometimes a struggle.