After the tense line, the body reappears. Not as recognisable anatomy, but as a shifting presence.
The fish does not impose itself: it insinuates itself. It is not a defined figure, but a mass that bends and transforms.
I approach the sculpture as if it had emerged, not as if it had been designed. Surfaces are not exact. They adapt. They expand.
Nothing is rigid. Everything seems to grow from within.
Here nothing is articulated nor interrupted. It expands.
At this point I enter into dialogue with Moore, Arp and Sonja Ferlova.

Fluidity has been necessary. Now the fissure appears.