... truth lies within those moments that when realized are already gone. We live in order to compensate and might one day bury the pain by taking the richness of instincts and deliver all to death. While eternity, remaining still as a symbol of cosmic reflection, watches over the raising mist upon the dyer`s bleak garden, we confine echos to a subworld. This is art in concrete negative style, focusing on remnants…
Most fortunate are those, who never realise what is lost.
Less fortunate are those who by chance see what could be saved.
Least fortunate are those who intent to save all, but always fail. These lead their lives in darkness.