I kneaded my belly many times, hoping it would magically disappear. I kneaded it in spite of enormously numerous complexes, as the mere touch of the skin gave great pleasure. The softness spilling out sideways was only a visual problem. My hands loved discovering and exploring every crease, dimple or rhythm of stretch marks on my thighs. Only recently have I realised that this was an attempt to build a map of my body without involving my eyes in this activity—they tormented and judged too harshly.

In my works, not quite consciously, I use the memory of my hands. I feel the strong need to recreate again and again what my fingers know so well. I hope that the eyes will eventually appreciate what they see, too.

Concave Touch is a pretext for the sensual exploration of the sculpture. All objects have been created with a view to observation by touch. Let the hands guide and the eyes rest.