As an artist, I vividly remember the birth of one of my first sculptures, driven by an irrepressible urge toem body my deepest emotions and beliefs. The sculpture, affectionately called “Music of the Spheres, “depicted a newborn baby with delicate fingers pointing to the sky, like a curious explorer seeking to reveal the mysteries of the universe.
What made this sculpture really special was the headphones the baby was wearing. At 16, I faced a dilemma: become a DJ and fill my weekends with music, or keep working and build a piggy bank. Through these headphones, the baby could hear the sound of the universe-a symphony of celestial tones resonating among the stars and planets.
As I kneaded the clay, I felt a deep connection to the universe. After many hours, weeks of dedicated labor, my vision was brought to life in “Music of the Spheres.” The baby stood there as a symbol of the human quest for connection with the cosmos.
“Music of the Spheres” was not just a work of art; it was an embodiment of my deepest convictions, an ode to the beauty and mystery of the universe. And as I admired my sculpture, I felt a deep gratitude for the opportunity to share my creative vision with the world and be part of something great.
