There is a way of working inseparable from living. The same forces are embodied: tempo, energy, motivation, attention. What happens in the studio happens elsewhere as well. Waiting creates distance. Looking again. Sleeping on it. A pause. A practice. Not intervening. Not forcing direction. The body is aware. Sometimes you know before you can say it.

We Have a Choice is a reflective essay for art collectors about consuming less and valuing care, attention, and time. Through everyday observations — a crooked plane tree, shared books, waiting behind a garbage truck — the text explores an alternative to fast transactions. It reflects on living with art and objects as a conscious practice, asking how we choose to relate to what already exists and how small, careful choices can open other ways of being.

I often start without an end in mind. I work with what is already present: the place I’m in, the tools I have, the material, my own strength and mood. By breaking familiar patterns—sometimes gently, almost invisibly—I discover new possibilities. A work is never truly finished; it keeps shifting, waiting to be reopened, seen and understood anew.

I recently took a stroll in the rain, feeling like I had the street all to myself. A sneaky droplet landed on my forehead, making me briefly