XELON

Nearly 30 years ago, I bought some oil pastels, used them for a couple of years, and then stored them away. After decades, I’ve opened that metal box again, now incomplete, and I’m giving it new life with much more knowledge and experience, yet maintaining the freshness, the gesture, and, above all, not losing the ability to surprise myself and enjoy the wonderful artistic process.

I really enjoy the ability to layer, mix, and evolve color by combining textures and strokes. Is there anything more direct and pleasurable than using your own finger to blend colors directly on the paper? I’m slowly filling in, in a rather automatic way, superimposing colors chosen at random, only to marvel at what happens in that journey of escape, where the paper and the wax hold me. No, wait… that’s a lie. There’s nothing random about it, but there is an attempt to loosen the reins and create something new and unexpected for myself. Since I had my daughter, Nur, I’ve been drawing with her, with her crayons, and I’ve reconnected with my inner child, relishing the freedom to let my imagination flow more and more on paper.

“We are made of pieces, each with its own story. We collect memories of forged steel and assemble them as we go, heating the metal to a bright red and cooling it quickly, tempering it so it lasts and withstands the harshness of life. We want to believe that we are alive, and that each moment is unique and ours. What matters is not the programming, but each line of code we’ve added to our system during our journey—that’s life… if we are alive.”