It was a piece made of sand, covered with white pigment. It was a sand-drawing, a spatial drawing on the floor. It was about a hand, and about writing in the sand. It was a very condensed and rounded, mobile and infinite drawing. You walked till the piece and looked down at the piece on the floor, just like landscape is seen from an aeroplane. gradually discover the (big) surface, you never perceive its wholeness. The piece was very fragile and very temporary - only for the exhibition time, and after that it was completely destroyed.
This act of working with sand and applying pigment is somehow an act of forbidding, an act of making a taboo, in order to prevent the touch. It establishes the limit, it declares: "Stop, do not go forward!" Because if you would touch the piece, you would destroy not only the surface, but the piece itself. It also comprises the idea to put a veto on the piece of art. And what happens when you apply the pigment is that the sand optically dematerialises, through its visual transformation it becomes something immaterial. This effect, however, cannot be reproduced, it only occurs live, in front of your eyes.
(1997)