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the old buttons produce a special attraction on me, because in my restlessness (and perhaps product of the time and the circumstances in which I live) they lead me, almost without realizing it, to increase a kind of "collection", increased thanks to the generosity of the contribution of people around me.

This is how I remember several years ago the creation of one of the installations that I did, Pollination, which I still have, whose flowers were mostly made up of old mother-of-pearl buttons.

Beyond the aesthetic that reveals the “genetic” of each piece -and that the speculativeness that it provokes in each observer is fantastic-, I believe that its contemplation incorporates the story that each one, with the emotional and psychological load that they want to give it , add in the image of the garment and the character that wore it.

as intrinsic as that, in the everyday… as the binding with gastronomy and the creative act.

trying to get rid of the prejudices that may lead me to consider filling a pie crust with buttons (assuming strictly gastronomic criticisms that may label me sacrilegious in this regard); I launch myself not so into the void setting up a stage where I try to tell a story: my own story, that of the search through the fusion of art and gastronomy; but beyond that, the intention of giving concrete form to those emotional sparks that provoke the creative act itself, and that stimulate me to try to put together languages ​​that, apparently, seem dissociated, but that when joining them and giving them shape in the foundation of that meeting, although they do not leave me with the full satisfaction that my satiety requires, at least they conform me with the hope that the road begins to be drawn ...

Miami, 11.07.2020