Where I've catched the air2010

blown cristal 370 x 200 x 300 cm

These bubbles are blown on the mold of a field. They are molded on the surface of the ground. My breath is trapped inside the bubble. The breath, the air, the atmosphere. The evening dew and the morning fog are witnesses of a breath. The ground is a skin that perspires, breathes out, breathes in. It takes what it needs, and spits out the surplus. The morning fog, breath of sleep, peaceful, thick. Then in the evening the dew is spitted out. Little pearls of sweat disseminated everywhere. Pearls of condensation that a breath leaves on a cold surface. The ground breathes.