Statement

My work moves between drawing and painting on one hand, and photography on the other. Both practices share the same impulse: a refusal of the mediated, the generated, the merely conceptual. Both insist on the physical, the bodily, the immediate.
These drawings began as pure automatism. When drawing fast, under pressure, my hand returns obsessively to the same form: the figure-eight garland, the loop that crosses itself and keeps going. The concept came later. Looking at what the hand had been doing, I recognized the lemniscate and everything it carries, and decided to keep going with that recognition rather than without it. The framework was adopted, not imposed. Years of drawing followed.
The lemniscate, the figure-eight, the mathematical symbol for infinity, arrives already burdened. In neo-Nazi code it is 88, Heil Hitler twice over. In Chinese culture 888 is maximally auspicious. In Jewish thought the number eight marks what lies beyond nature, beyond the attainable perfection of seven. The same form carries incompatible histories that cannot be reconciled and will not dissolve.
This is the starting point, the conceptual frame, the provocation. What happens next is physical: the hand takes over. The drawings are made through visceral, automated gesture, the body working faster than thought, the lemniscate becoming a kind of obsessive motor pattern. The rigid geometry of the symbol meets the uncontrollable variability of the mark. Neither dominates.
The Kabbalistic distinction is not incidental. Seven is attainable perfection, the natural, the completed gesture. Eight is what exceeds it, what goes beyond nature, what cannot be contained. The drawings enact this literally: the loop completes itself and keeps going, crossing back over, refusing to stop.
Each drawing is both things at once: semantically overloaded and bodily immediate, mathematically precise in its origin and anarchic in its execution. The series accumulates like a diary, one gesture after another, the same form returning under different physical conditions, different pressures, speeds, materials, states of the hand and body. The symbol does not get resolved. It gets worn, repeated, exploded, and left unresolved.
Each medium has its own moment of épuisement — the point at which the ink thins, the wax drags, the mark loses its charge. This is also the moment of stopping. The recharging is the return.
The camera is not a tool for composition or beauty. It is proof that a body was present, that a surface was touched, that something real occurred. The instrument is chosen for what it refrains from doing as much as for what it does. The grain is not a style. It is what the instrument actually sees. The choice of instrument is a choice about what kind of seeing is permitted.