This stone is very much like flesh. It has fibres and veins, a lot of red and grey, like fat. The background is pink and abstract. In this painting, the stone floats in the air – as though in the vastness of outer space. Stones speak to me. I meet them on the beach near my painting studio. I stroke the texture of the stone, running my finger over it. What I read from there is the pattern of the building blocks of the world, flowing and colliding. I perceive the polishing traces of time. I also sense how my own existence expands. It is as if I need this point of reference or a yardstick to put myself on the map; some heaviness that brings me there. This is where the world I walk was created and formed. The stone in my hand is breathing, changing, and taking form – in its own rhythm imperceptible to me. And this dimension has an expanding effect: stones connect me with eternity.