The Blue Hour: this is my translation of a term coined in French, l'heure bleue, referring to twilight, when the sun is well below the horizon. During this time, the remaining sunlight takes on a predominantly blue hue, caused by Rayleigh scattering. While the sun is still below the horizon, its light is scattered through the atmosphere, creating a unique atmosphere, a sense of mystery and magic. This is a time of day when the world seems to change, bathed in soft blue light that gives everything around us a colorful, mystical quality and, for me, a kind of richly imagined dream.

This blue time is a time of transition, a particular transition revealed to us among all the hours of the day: a change taking place before us that gives us, as human beings, the chance to pause and think, to reflect on life and understand the transience of the world and of ourselves. For me, this time is a moment of introspection, of watching a scene that is constantly changing. Change excites us; it gives us a sense that we are always in motion.

In the paintings, I address this transitional time, the twilight hour, and try to hold eternal time against changing time. This change is inherent in our existence: the change unfolding before our eyes, set against the eternity of images with a mythological feel, eternity and timelessness.

The man setting out for battle is a subject that crosses cultures and eras. Human history is full of such stories, of the mythologically invincible. The man going into battle captures the imagination and reminds us of the human desire for power, glory and victory. It speaks of our fascination with extraordinary abilities and the heroic archetypes that embody our collective aspirations and ideals. I place them in time's most elusive moments, a moment that cannot be held.

In this body of work, I feel that I have multiplied myself: the endless arguments a person can have with himself. Yet I agree to be the community. Among the figures appear the warrior and the one who refuses to accept the situation and wants to change it; there is the idle one and the one willing to kill himself and drown rather than remain in this world. There is a community of voices, and I give them visual expression. They fight for a place; they all want to exist.

These are inner states unfolding on my mental balcony, in the stormy sea within me, and one thing is very clear there: they never reach agreement, even in the quiet moments. Most of the time, however, there is an inner war, and the paintings tell these stories in some way.