It was like a cultural backwater where I lived. All the books were up high, out of my access. The family was, in a sense, culturally conditioned.

It grew in intensity, and that's how I began my odyssey as a black sheep.

I wanted to function intuitively by constantly going back and forth in-between spaces. To confront reality.

The transparency of the water was an exciting element for me. I did not know the words that describe water, but I always liked how it absorbs and finds a home among seemingly incompatible elements. The encounters I've had in my older years range from a single glass of water to an entire ocean.

The ocean is not a myth, as the globe has shown me. It is real; there's an aspect of violence of the danger of this constant flow and ebb. I internalized the inherent violence and peril of this ever-changing tide which I felt inside and imposed the whole choreography of ephemerality into my work so that you can't fight against it.

I feel sensuous when I have a feeling of the ebb. It has something to do with the sensuality of making art. it's like a wet-foot situation where you have to dive deep inside yourself to touch the gravity through your cords and come back.

I've always been disturbed by gravity and the idea behind it. My mother told me once that when I was a small child, I would spend a long time throwing things in the air and getting increasingly enraged when they came down.

Gravity is the thing I can't quite come to terms with. I wanted things to take another form instead of falling down like dead. That sounds a little strange, but that's how it is.

I don't like the term 'art'. It's quite worn out: I don't think we ever think about art when we work. We are solving a problem or problems. If it's an art that comes incidentally and much later.

There's a sexual undertone to everything. It's a beautiful feeling of fullness; it gives me a glow and fills the void. I feel sensuous while making love with my work.

As a kid, I didn't understand the meaning of aesthetics. I never liked an image that didn't have a complete form with deep color. I always like 3D images. Although I had no idea what is it, we call it a sculpture. I instinctively understood what it meant to me sensationally. It made an enormous impact. I remember spending hours arranging colored objects on the carpet because of that instinct to make things go here juxtaposed with various colors and tones. It used to make me furious at times.

I am trying to remember when I lost all those colors. I don't know how I became more inclined toward black and white. When and how I started feeling that I couldn't handle too much information about those colors. I wanted to be precise and immaculate and absorb everything in one transparent drop.