Art is the dark desire of things. They all want to become images of our secrets. They would gladly abandon their faded meaning to don some of our innermost nostalgia.

They penetrate our vibrating senses, thirsting to become the façades of our emotions. They escape the conventional. They want to be whatever we deem them to be. Gratefully and willingly, they will take on the new names bestowed upon them by the artist.

They are like children begging to be taken with us on a journey: they will not understand everything, but the thousands of scattered and random impressions will simply and beautifully be etched on their faces. This is how things want to stand before the confessions of the artist, if chosen as a guise for his work: to silence and reveal at the same time.

Dark, yet illuminated by the spirit within, like the many faces in his soul's song. This call is what the artist listens to: the desire of things to become his language. He will elevate them from the burdensome and meaningless relationships of the conventional to the great correlations of his deeper being.

[Excerpt from the text on the back cover of the edition]