When I’m at a loss for words, my hands take over. I’ve been blessed with an artist’s soul. From my childhood in Africa and through multiple pilgrimages around the world, my eyes have been nourished by images, which my hands now wish to reproduce. Memories of people from my past, sprinkled throughout my mind, are now my personal creations, born out of clay.
These days I’m in the mood to play Creator; to shape this same Earth to which I belong and to extract my vision of man, my experience and the beauty which surrounds me. I generally sculpt with a very lively emotion, almost in a trance, perspiration mixed with strong inspiration. At first, there is nothing but a confusing image, a mental sketch. But then, through contact with the Earth, with every beat of my thumb, the shape is born and my hands know; they have faith in what they create.
Rapidly, the imprecise becomes precise and what was just a vague idea transforms. I believe in my hands; they have never betrayed me. I am always amazed at what they produce when I allow them to express themselves freely. No sketches; pure creation, instinctive, spontaneous. The topics which inspire me vary according to my mood. Sometimes fun and at others serious; it doesn’t really matter. What is fundamental is to extract and transmit this emotion that lives within me and later find it in the faces of the people who contemplate my sculptures.