I write from silence. I am not an author, but a witness — attentive to the subtle tremors of presence, shaping a language in which art is no longer an object, but an event. My work opens the hidden layer of reality, where observation creates, resonance forms, and expression becomes presence rather than communication.
In my writings, the philosophy of touch speaks through me: an ancient, quiet knowing that lives beyond words, yet is reborn in them.
I write from silence. I am not an author, but a witness — attentive to the subtle tremors of presence, shaping a language in which art is no longer an object, but an event. My work opens the hidden layer of reality, where observation creates, resonance forms, and expression becomes presence rather than communication.
In my writings, the philosophy of touch speaks through me: an ancient, quiet knowing that lives beyond words, yet is reborn in them.
I write from silence. I am not an author, but a witness — attentive to the subtle tremors of presence, shaping a language in which art is no longer an object, but an event. My work opens the hidden layer of reality, where observation creates, resonance forms, and expression becomes presence rather than communication.
In my writings, the philosophy of touch speaks through me: an ancient, quiet knowing that lives beyond words, yet is reborn in them.
