The house was made of light

The final object is the impalpable excuse. It is what happen during the process, the fluid multiplicity of thoughts completely forgotten ...  is a process of forgetting and remembering at the same time and the object is, in its presence, a mean of digging the expansiveness of the moment or a way to fall apart in it.

Detail

I love the impermanent quality of glass, powerful fragility and constant renewal. Its uncompromising transparency which hides nothing while reflecting, as a way to remember that is not about itself, but about what is present when observed.