IN THE MIDST OF SILENCE , what matters is the shape and the color, the canvas is accessory.

I have this intuition that beyond this sensible world lies an unexpressed reality where all forms and all colors are possible. This reality, which the Tao describes as non-BEING, is the reality from which, as if from a large ladle, we extract—at random, we think—everything that exists.

I trust that our ability to project the immaterial into the material world, which we call imagination, comes from our intuition and has a direction even if we are not aware of it.

I like to believe that through Shibori, I manage to reveal shapes and colors that give rise to sensitive experiences extracted from that great pot; shapes and colors that manifest an energy that, when tuned into our own, we recognize as beautiful. I like to think that each of my scarves unmasks a small universe. That's why each of my pieces is different. I don't follow rules. I adore the surprise behind the unstructured reserve that is the fruit of a unique moment. As if it were a garment that in another time and space was always destined for its owner, a mysteriously shaped gift that offers itself and uses me as an instrument. Because the form beyond the limits of the sensible world always manifests itself given the right conditions.

A KNOT is a bond, a KNOT between the sensible world and what unites us beyond. The Handkerchief is a canvas where, given the right conditions, colors never before expressed and forms that have never before seen the limit are expressed; I am only an ideally silent, idle, minimalist medium to allow that place beyond form and color to show itself. The truth is that it cannot help but do so; it does so all the time, at every instant, in every moment. We just have to remain silent to understand it.

“You don't need to leave home. Stay at your table and listen. Don't even listen, just wait. Don't even wait, stay completely alone and silent. The world will come to you to expose itself; it can't help but prostrate itself in ecstasy at your feet.”

Franz Kafka