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Life of course! Life that frees shapes, cares nothing for contours, smashes frames. Each spindle of droplets seems to play at pathfinder, exploring the algebra of emotions. Its geometry is wayward, preferring circularity to straight lines. As such, are the paintings juxtaposed in sensual complicity a cascade of broken glass or unruly hair, or a wave washing up on the sand to engrave there what we want to see and then disappearing? The ribbons of droplets come apart only to reunite and continue their mad dash that the lighting alone can follow. Time and again, the light proposes the stories. The wind sweeps through the wild grasses on the banks of the pond, disrupting their peace to create a new harmony. In the restless dawn or stormy dusk, nature forces itself to undergo constant renewal. G.H

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