While the world goes on, it destroys and recreates itself, in constant crisis and mess, i am left wondering …. what does it even mean to be an artist, why would it even matter, why would people even care.
Useless almost like a dancing doll, dancing in the middle of Caos.
While the world goes on and everything vanishes bit by bit, i am left dancing,
but dancing for who?

The Doll is made out of brass pieces, some are poished, others oxidized. The background is in plaster, like a stone, like a wall, with the records of time etched into it.
Unstable, caotic, surprising and non-sense, a reflection of the Time we are living in.