It took me almost 70 years to get here, where you are reading me. 6 years of theatre, 3 published novels (and many more rejected), more than 30 years in advertising, a subterranean life as a visual artist, and then also cyclist, translator, teacher, clown, choir singer, podcaster, marathon runner, videomaker. Now that I think about it, if there is one common thread, it has been movement. That is why this photo is blurred.

I have moved house 14 times, run 3,000 km, cycled more than 25,000 km (and I keep going). Along the way I have found quite a few good friends, I have had the fortune to meet and share my life with many beautiful people, and I have tried various family and sentimental arrangements.

The last 3 years helped me understand a few things. That the time had come to give art a real chance, and I worked on it. That I have been very lucky in my life, and the time had come to give some of that luck back, in my own way. And that art was my way of doing it.

I make my works with one goal: to make art that is kind to you, that keeps you company.

Because once I stopped to look at the stars, on a cloudless night. Distances. Frequencies. Waves. Endless. And one evening I listened to the sound of nothing, and all I needed was a radio made of wire and a piece of crystal. Nothing hums, and it passes through us all day long, and we do not hear it. Waves. Frequencies. Distances. Endless. It is a little frightening. Then it passes, and it leaves us with a simple sentence: we are here together, on the same particle of infinity, floating, temporary — the least we can do is greet each other.

My works are nods of understanding, gestures of kindness.

And starting tomorrow they will begin to travel physically through the world. Not just to look at, but to smell, to touch, to feel for real. Because if we are drowning in disembodied digital signals, surrounded by screens, isolated and alone, I want to make a real journey, and meet you in person. And leave a good memory.