When asked why my works are titled DANCERS, I explain that I picture the blinds floating in space with music that will only be heard by them.

I enjoy thinking about the transmutation from object to drawing. And I say transmutation because the lines form the image and they are also the body that gradually leaves the object. As the drawing emerges from a dark plan, the blinds die in my hand.

It is interesting to see sandpaper as a solidary blackhole: it sucks what it needs to suck, but it lets us see its new possession. And it is unforgiving, which gives a resolution to the work. Sometimes I wish I could erase one line too many, then I understand that the blinds bear no mistakes, they are only the dance of their own bodies with the insinuation of their voids.

I look up, and in the night I see a sandpaper erasing the hours. The contours will be up there. I myself will be here, in front of the table, in front of the drawing, in front of a black background in front of the dancers.