The Heart Tree

With the wire, I drew an inner tree. I twisted, knotted and intertwined it until the roots and branches became one, forming an organic, almost beating heart. My hands followed the rhythm of the metal: sometimes resistant, sometimes surprisingly supple, like nature itself. The twisted lines trace a complex structure, made of full and empty spaces, where the cycles of life and growth circulate. Wire allows me to express the duality that inhabits me: the strength that holds me upright and the fragility that accepts to bend. Nothing is fixed, everything is linked. In the tangle of branches, I speak of invisible links, of what connects people, soils and seasons. Metal, though rigid, becomes alive. It ceases to be matter and becomes a metaphor: that of a universal, deep, silent, essential connection.