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We often heard the screams emanating from his workshop as he started
a new piece, followed by sobs into the night as his art took form. He
stimulated and tortured her for hours - and then worked the magic of his
sculpture and paint.
He molded and twisted her, his raw material, into contorted shapes and
positions. Whether the inspiration was the shape, the screams of her body
or the energy he poured into her flesh, his expressions materialized in
canvas and sculpture.
I've heard it told his pieces are rather prized in certain circles. I
don't know. We mind our own business and listen to his work from afar.
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