".... In this prison itself peace comes to rest. In these angles, in these corners, it seems that the dreamer knows the intermediate rest between being and not being. He is a being of unreality."
( Gaston Bachelard, La poétique de l'espace )

I created useless objects in the last few months to challenge my creative process.

I looked for inspiration from the poet Paul Celan (as I often do) and I was drawn to this poem: 

In the Void
Where the chitlins wind
around the brains-
blossom,
I threw myself toward stones,
they caught me
and crowned a round
with what I became.
 

Soon they started to emerge. They were patchwork of pure silver pieces that were forged, fused, and stitched with silver threads. At first, I named them stones, because they felt nice and comforting in my hand. 

Then, gradually as their number increased, and as I got used to having one in my pocket always, I discovered they were a special tool. One that creates a space for dreaming, where I can immerse myself in the material and the creation process and let the dream guide me. A space where the limits are challenged, shifted, and new or hidden worlds are exposed.

It is a tool for dreaming.